Loose Lips
by Roseau767
Summary: Andy has some secrets that lead to difficult choices. Will things change between her and Sam if she reveals them?
1. Chapter 1

**AN- This is another story that's been floating around in my head for some time. Very different from my previous work, but definitely McSwarek, but not a typical McSwarek. This is not really an AU, but for the purpose of this story, season 2 never happened! Sam and Andy are partners, and they never 'hooked up'-that includes the night of the blackout too. But that doesn't mean they don't like each other... Let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Rookie Blue still isn't mine, just having fun with the characters, and indulging my overactive imagination.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: All Alone.<strong>

It was a typical Friday night at the Black Penny. Plenty of alcohol, lots of coppers and lots of noise. Andy enjoyed being there after work, it gave her a chance to catch up with her friends, unwind and have a drink or two. She loved her job, and although some days were difficult, she really wouldn't change things for the world. Sam was a great partner too, and in the two years she had known him, he had become a stable fixture in her life. Dependable and reliable. As friends of course, although they did spend a fair bit of time together outside work; even more so recently. Sam was very handy, and had helped her with some minor repairs on her new apartment, as well as several major ones. He never accepted payment, unless you counted the pizza and beer that she fed him on those occasions. Andy was thankful that there was no money involved, as she was just about managing on her police salary. She was very careful with her finances, and tried to stay within her budget. It didn't leave room for much luxuries, but every month her bills were paid, she saved a little and she was able to enjoy a few drinks at the Penny once or twice a week. Hardly the most exciting, fun-filled life of a twenty something female, but she was content. More importantly, this was the first time since she was a teenager, that she felt things were finally in her favour. Her apartment was finally complete, courtesy of Sam, who had painstakingly tiled her entire bathroom, and fitted a new shower, in order to complete her list of requests. His essence was everywhere in her apartment, and for every task he had completed, there was a funny story to accompany it. The rooms he had helped to paint, the ceiling fan he installed, the new locks he put on her door and the bed he put together. She never laughed so much, when they were together. Admittedly, some of his jokes bordered on being cheesy, but the way he delivered them made her laugh so much that her sides ached.

Andy wasn't in a relationship with anybody. It had been a while now, just over a year. It didn't really bother her, although Traci had commented several times on her inability to find a decent man, and that she had become too fussy. It wasn't that Andy was fussy, she just wanted to be with the right person. She had many offers in that time, but she always politely refused. When you know, you just get that feeling right? Well as far as she was concerned, nobody gave her that feeling, so she would just keep waiting. She knew she often compared potential suitors against Sam, which she acknowledged was a tall order for anyone to follow. Sam was a great guy, good work ethics, handsome and above all loved his family. Definitely, the kind of qualities she looked for in a potential partner. Traci who was not the most subtlest, foolishly suggested that her and Sam 'hook up' but they were just good friends, and someday soon, he would probably go back undercover, and she wouldn't see him again for a long time.

As if on cue, she saw Bobby Richards from across the bar. She groaned inwardly but smiled at him, raising her beer bottle in acknowledgement.

"Hey Andy!" he shouted. He tended to shout a lot.

"Hi Bobby. You well?"

"I will be when you agree to go on that date with me. I'm not going to give up you know. When I want something I keep at it till I get it," he said self assuredly. And loudly.

A few heads turned in her direction, and Andy could feel her cheeks beginning to turn a light shade of pink. She was embarassed. She hated when he did that, and he did that alot. He had asked her out to dinner on several occasions, but she always declined. He was tall, good looking, and was a cop at 27 division. They had gone to the Academy together, so they were not strangers, but her viewpoint of him always remained the same. Nice guy, but just not for her. She stared down at her beer bottle, and took a long gulp of the liquid it contained. Its coolness helping to dissipate the heat in her flushed cheeks. She glanced sideways at Sam, who simply raised an eyebrow and continued sipping his scotch.

"Why does he keep doing that?" she whispered, so that only he could hear.

"He likes you McNally," Sam said as a matter of fact.

"Yeah, well..."

''Well what?"

"Well I don't like him that way. You know that Sam," she said incredulously.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He had been privy to this regular display of unrequited love for a some time now. Not just Richards, but plenty of other guys, even the odd perp or victim. Andy was very attractive, beautiful really, but she was never one to highlight it. In some ways he didn't think she even realised it. She wasn't one for high heels and makeup unless it was a special occasion, and even then she was very understated in what she wore. She was more of a jeans and sneakers kind of girl, with a dash of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

"What do I know McNally?" he sighed casually. ''Maybe if he saw you before you had your morning coffee he might change his mind." Sam smirked, Andy elbowed him and giggled.

"Hey!" she said bumping him lightly with her shoulder, "You are much worse than me without your caffeine fix."

"Yeah, that's true," he conceded, and chuckled softly.

Sam held her gaze for a few seconds, and she blinked several times in quick succession. A bed of long, curly eyelashes graced her large brown eyes. Yeah, she really was beautiful, and he knew her well enough to know a guy like Richards could never capture her heart. His pushy nature made her run a mile. She hated attention and being fussed over, which is why her and Luke never got past the first date. Andy never got into the details with Sam, and all she would say was that he was too flashy for her liking, and wasn't the type of relationship she needed. He didn't like Luke, detested him if the truth be told, but since he was out of the picture he never bothered to probe further. It didn't stop Luke staring at her from afar. It was probably more his pride than anything, but Luke wanted to try again with Andy, he had approached her a few times since, but she was simply not interested. Luke never tried to understand Andy, or what made her tick. He just wanted a pretty girl on his arm, so he could brag to all his detective buddies about what she was like in the sack. He'd seen the way he'd spoken about previous girlfriends, and it was always graphic, but never flattering. She certainly wasn't your typical female, if there was ever such a thing, there were many layers to her persona. As her partner, he'd spent hours analysing what Andy needed, which was why they got on so well. Sam knew he took more interest in her than any of his other past rookies and partners, but he couldn't help himself. She had a natural ability to make him want to know her better, and the more he knew, the more he wanted to know. But she was still a mystery to him in so many ways.

He tapped his glass on the counter, signalling to the bartender for the same again.

"You want another drink McNally?"

Andy shook her head. 'I'm good thanks. Besides I need to go. Richards is still freaking me out, and I want to see my dad for a little while.'

Sam nodded in understanding. He looked over at Richards, who averted his gaze very quickly when he saw Sam watching him. He was scared of Sam as most other officers were. He had developed a reputation of being quite mean and dangerous. He was quite happy to go along with it, if it meant making Andy more comfortable. No one needed to know that this was so far from the truth.

"Is there a problem Richards?" Sam said in his best menacing voice.

Richards shook his head, and walked over to the pool table, which had suddenly become very interesting. Sam smiled.

"Thanks," Andy whispered.

"Anytime McNally."

"See you tomorrow."

"Yep. Tomorrow." he said. "Say hi to Tommy for me."

Andy nodded her head and smiled. Giving one last glance at Richards, she slid off the bar stool and hurried out of the Penny.

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><p>Andy stood outside with her arms wrapped tightly around her, bouncing slightly to help generate some heat. She flipped open her cellphone, and read the time on its display. She'd been waiting out there for twenty minutes now, and was contemplating calling the taxi company again to see what the hold up was, when she saw the bright lights of a vehicle approach her.<p>

"You're late!" Andy snapped at the driver.

"Sorry lady. Lots of traffic. Where too?"

"The hospital. St Marks."

"Visiting hours are over. You know that right?" the taxi driver questioned.

"Yes I know" she said quietly.

The driver remained silent, slowly pulling out of the parking lot, and heading in the direction of the hospital.

It was a short journey to the hospital, which didn't give Andy much time to think. There wasn't really much to think about at this stage, not until she spoke to the specialist. She had wanted to tell Sam what was going on; about the headaches, fatigue and weightloss but had decided against it. Things between them were so good, that she didn't want it to change because of her problems, and right now she had plenty of those. Work was where she able to forget, and spend time with Sam. He really was important to her, and she needed his presence in her life. She had never allowed herself the liberty of figuring out just how much he meant or just how much she needed him. That would involve exploring her feelings, and she didn't want to do that. Besides, after the life she'd had, she didn't think she'd be able to make a success of any relationship she had. Andy would be the first to admit that her childhood had seriously messed her up. Despite all this, the love her and father had for one another was bullet proof. Although she would do anything for him, she knew their relationship was both dysfunctional and destructive on so many levels. Sam, she trusted him with her life, and most of her secrets too, but there were some things best kept to herself. How did the saying go? _Loose Lips, Sink Ships. _It was something her granny would often say, especially when it came to her mother leaving the way she did. Looking back, her grandmother was the glue that held the McNally clan together. She was the hub of the family, and when she passed away everything changed. It wasn't long afterwards that her father's drinking increased ten-fold, and the nightmare of her childhood really began. There were one or two skeletons in the McNally closet, that were probably best kept there. She didn't want Sam to act differently towards her or start to feel sorry if he knew the real story, he'd always had the abridged version, rated PG. It was safer that way for all concerned. She hated pity, she'd had enough of it to last her a life time. She felt it when she arrived as a fresh faced rookie, and people realised she was Tommy McNally's daughter. She worked hard to establish herself as a separate McNally entity at the division and wanted to keep things that way, and was slowly proving herself to be a good officer under Sam's guidance. She still relied on his expertise, and was not afraid to ask him for advice. He was the closest thing she had to a normal male relationship, and she treasured it and treasured him.

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><p>The taxi pulled up outside the hospital. Andy paid the driver and made her way into the front entrance. She wished she had told Sam what was happening, maybe he could have accompanied her. She was nervous.<p>

"Hello. Ms McNally?" a lady said.

Andy turned around, and sighed with relief.

''Hi. I was just figuring out how to locate you. I didn't think to ask when we spoke on the phone earlier today. Oh and by the way, call me Andy. All my friends call me Andy."

The lady smiled and nodded. "Well Andy. Shall we go through to my office? There's alot to discuss."

Andy nodded, and taking a final deep breath of courage, followed the lady into a small room.

About an hour later, Andy emerged from the office somewhat upset and anxious. Her arms were full of leaflets and brochures. The lady, Christine said she would call her tomorrow for a chat. Andy nodded, furiously wiping away the tears that were beginning to fall. There was so much information to take in, that she considered going back to the Penny for several more drinks, and maybe talk to Sam. He was a great listener, they spoke alot about everything and anything. He always made a wise crack or rolled his eyes when she started talking, but always listened and gave her his full attention. That was one of the things she loved about him. He was very good at helping her dissect a situation in order to find the best possible solution. She wondered though, if she was expecting too much from him, as they were only friends and nothing more. After careful consideration, she decided against it, hearing her grandmother's word loud and clear. '_Loose Lips, Sink Ships_. _What happens in the McNally household, stays in the McNally household.'_ Andy was a McNally, she would deal with this on her own. She decided to walk home instead, giving her a chance to think and clear her head.

Some time later, Andy arrived at her apartment, slightly colder, much calmer and with a plan of action. One thing Sam had taught her, was not to overthink things too much which wasn't always easy when she considered her life to date. She was working on it though. Things were what they were, and she just had to deal with it. Letting herself in to her apartment, she bolted the door behind her and threw her keys down on the coffee table along with the multitude of leaflets Christine had given her. She was supposed to have seen her dad tonight, but she was too upset and tired. She sent him a quick text to let him know she would see him tomorrow instead, and made her way to the bedroom. Not even bothering to properly undress, she peeled off her jeans, climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over her. Within a few minutes her breathing became slow and even. She had fallen asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN- Thanks for the reviews, and so many alerts! Glad I have got your attention. Bear with me- more will be revealed over time...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Taking Control.<strong>

Andy woke up much earlier than usual. She showered, got dressed and had breakfast with plenty of time to spare. Pouring herself some coffee and sitting cross-legged on the settee, she began to read some of the leaflets she had brought home the previous evening. One leaflet in particular, irritated her immensley. It was bright yellow with a young couple on the front, looking lovingly at one another and smiling. She rolled her eyes at the image, and after reading its contents, wondered what exactly this 'happy' couple had to smile about. Nothing about this curent situation made her smile. She sighed heavily when she considered the options available to her, and no matter how hard she thought about it, there was only one answer.

Her life was never destined to be easy, and she wondered why she ever thought differently. Andy considered the purchasing of a new apartment would be symbolic of a new beginning, but she was sadly mistaken. Some things never change, and yet again she had some tough decisions to make, and talking about it wouldn't make these choices any easier. She'd had enough of talking, she needed to take action. Shaking her head, in an attempt to banish her negative thoughts, Andy sprung to her feet.

"No time for wallowing, McNally!" she scolded herself. It was time to suck it up and deal with it. Grabbing her keys from the table, slipping on her coat and shoes, she decided to walk to work. It meant arriving a whole hour earlier than usual, but this gave her time to get dressed into her uniform, instead of her usual manic rush, and most importantly allowed her the time to speak to Frank before parade.

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><p>Entering the locker room, Andy saw Gail already dressed and applying a fresh coat of lipstick, which she nearly dropped when she saw Andy walk in.<p>

"You're early" Gail said trying to appear uninterested, but her 'Peck' senses were alerted. Gail always arrived for her shift considerably earlier than the others. Her mother always encouraged it, amongst many other pearls of wisdom. It was important to stay one step ahead of the competition. Things people want to hide, tend to come to pass when they believe no one is looking. That could be the difference between coming first and winning, or losing. There was no such thing as second or third place; either you were a winner or a loser, no time for shades of grey in this business. It would seem that on this occasion, she was right. The early bird definitely catches the worm, and Andy was hiding something.

"I'm not always late, Gail," Andy huffed indignantly, although she hated to admit that Gail's nasty comments were generally based on some sort of truth.

"No of course not," Gail said raising her eyebrows. The sarcasm which was radiating from that statement did not go unnoticed by Andy, but she chose to ignore it.

Andy got dressed quickly, and left without saying another word. She made her way to the sergeant's office, gently knocking at the door and waited. He raised his head from the papers on his desk, and signalled for her to enter.

"McNally?" he said somewhat surprised, glancing at his wrist watch.

"Could I have a word Sir?"

He indicated for her to take a seat, which she did but not before firmly closing the door behind her and locking it. Noticing this display, Frank put his pen down, giving her his full attention. Andy took a deep breath and began to speak.

Gail sat at a desk watching with great interest. Something was going on with Andy McNally. Something big. Not only was Andy early which _never_ happened, she was now talking to the staff sergeant. He didn't look angry, so she couldn't be in trouble. He was not smiling either, but Frank rarely smiled, so that didn't indicate much. Maybe she was going undercover? She felt a pang of jealousy at the possibility. As much as she hated to admit it, she was slightly envious of how the other senior officers were drawn towards Andy rather than her. Maybe Chris or one of the others knew what was going on, she would ask them later. Gail returned her attention back towards the large glass windows of Frank's office, trying to decipher just exactly what Andy McNally was up to.

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><p>Sam arrived at the barn some 30 minutes before the start of shift. He liked to be punctual, something which was unlikely to ever rub off on his partner. He smiled to himself thinking of Andy, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Usually with a few minutes to spare, she'd rush in just making it on time. It gave him a headache just watching her whizz past, making her way to her seat, while hastily adjusting her uniform at the same time. Sam loved working with Andy; everyday was always different with her around. He had always enjoyed his job, but since they were partnered together, everything just seemed so much brighter. The desire to work undercover with Guns and Gangs had subsided since they had met, and working in uniform seemed to be satisfying him for now. He didn't want to be away from his friends and loved ones for months at a time anymore, creating a new character, losing himself and sleeping in cockroach infested apartments. He wanted more in his life, and after his telephone conversation with his sister Sarah the previous night, he was going to get it. He felt positive and focussed; he knew what he needed to do. He'd wait for Andy, bring her some coffee and he'd finally ask her if she wanted to try being a couple. Surely, she'd say yes, they made a good team, and complimented each other well.<p>

"Morning Peck," Sam said cheerily.

"Hmmm. Morning," Gail replied somewhat distracted.

Sam looked to see what was holding her attention, as it certainly wasn't their conversation. He was surprised to see Andy on time, but more curiously speaking to Frank. Frank was leaning back slightly in his chair, with both hands on his desk. He looked relaxed, clearly thinking about whatever she was saying. Andy on the other hand was sitting completely upright, being over demonstrative with her hands, which Sam knew was a sign of her being nervous but desperately trying to make a point that she considered important. Frank would nod every so often, but kept his eyes focussed on his hands. After working with Frank for over ten years, he knew that meant he was deliberating about something. It was the face he used when playing poker, in deciding whether he should fold or continue playing his hand.

"She's been in there almost an hour," Gail threw in trying to gage Sam's reaction. She figured he would know what was happening. They were partners after all.

"oooooooookayyyy" he said, slowly drawing out the word. He wasn't quite sure what she was expecting him to say. He had no idea what they were talking about either. Even if he did, Gail would be the last person he would be discussing it with. Besides, Andy would never forgive him, her privacy was very important. _She was very important_.

They both continued staring into the office until they saw Andy rise, and quickly looked away busying themselves with other things. From the corner of his eye, he saw Andy shake Frank's hand as she was leaving his office.

"Thank-you for your time Sir," she said.

"That's quite alright McNally. I can't promise anything, but I need to take advice and will get back to you."

Andy nodded and left for parade.

As usual Andy and Sam were partnered together. He hoped she would tell him what was going on, but she remained relatively quiet throughout most of their shift. Every so often Sam would glance at her, but she remained silent, her mind seemed far away. This was definitely unlike Andy, she always had something to talk about, however trivial. It made him worried, he thought they were close, but obviously not close enough. After driving around a little while longer, his need to know was getting the better of him.

"Hey Andy, you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine Sam," she replied.

"Hmmhmm," Sam said knowingly. Andy had mentioned those two magic words. She was definitely not fine, something was bothering her.

"You wanna talk?"

"No not really." She shrugged her shoulders.

"So that's not exactly a definite no then," he said smiling wide, producing his dimples.

Andy swatted him with her hand, and gave a small smile.

"Nice try Sam. I'm just working out a few things in my mind, it's not a big deal really."

She turned her attention back to looking out the passenger window. Sam realised he wasn't going to get anything out of her so he backed off. For now.

"Well you know what helps when working things out in your mind?" he posed.

"No, but I'm sure I'm going to find out."

"Coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. How about it McNally,you game?"

"Coffee and Chocolate? Yes most definitely," she smiled. It was her first real genuine smile of the day.

Sam smiled back at her, he loved to see her smile, and was happy that he was the cause of it. He didn't press her any further on what was concerning her, although he felt a little put out that she didn't seem to trust him enough. He figured she would tell him in her own time. Afterall, Andy couldn't keep anything to herself for too long. Her overthinking would make her talk.

They drank their coffee and shared a large slice of chocolate cake between the two of them, while they chatted a little. They were both relaxed, clearly comfortable in each others company, until a call came through on the radio. Things continued that way, and several calls later, it was finally the end of their shift. Sam never got the opportunity to ask the question that was on his mind since morning, somehow there never seemed to be a right moment. They arrived back at the barn, tired but glad they were off for the next few days. Sam had planned to go to St Catherine's to visit his sister Sarah. He hadn't seen her in while and was looking forward to spending some time with her. Andy, well he had no idea what her plans were, she never said, although her usual pattern involved catching up on sleep and visiting her father.

Both Sam and Andy sat to finish the last of their paperwork, when Frank called Andy into his office. Sam's gaze followed her and watched the body language between the two once more. Although there was no way of knowing what they were saying to one another, he hoped something could be extracted from their interaction. Frank was doing most of the talking, and Andy was the one nodding this time. Interesting. She looked happy and almost relieved, he noted. Frank handed her a piece of paper, which she opened, read its contents and smiled. Frank put a hand on her shoulder and continued talking, he was staring directly at her, clearly emphasising a point. She said a few words back and nodded. Andy folded the piece of paper several times and put it in her pocket. She came back and sat at her desk continuing with her paperwork.

"Everything ok?" Sam said, trying to sound casual.

"Everything's fine Sam."

She kept glancing her watch every so often, and would return to typing away at her computer. When she finished what she had on her desk, she took some of Sam's, clearly wanting to finish as soon as possible.

"You going to the Penny tonight?" Sam asked

"No not tonight."

"Oh. Big plans? Hot date?" desperately hoping the latter was not the case.

"No big plans. Just going to see my dad and...stuff."

They carried working steadily for the next hour, and mutually decided they had done enough. Andy rose first; she didn't need to be told twice.

"See you in a few days then. Enjoy your break away," she said hurriedly.

"I will do. Hey Andy, I was wondering..."

Before Sam could begin to finish his question, Andy was already walking towards the locker rooms, removing her tie at the same time. She waved her hand without looking back, she was clearly anxious to get out.

"...if you'd like to come to St Catherine's with me?" he finished saying to himself. He looked around, slightly embarrassed that he had managed to finally say something, which fell on deaf ears. He was glad nobody was close by to hear. She would probably have said no anyway, and he didn't think he could handle the rejection. Andy was too good for him, her queue of admirers were testament to that fact. He didn't know what possessed him to think he had a chance with her. He was better off alone, and would always be by himself where love was concerned. His doubts were creeping in, and his new found confidence had vanished. He walked slowly to the locker room to get changed. He was angry and disappointed with himself. He should have said something earlier, or followed her into the locker room. But now it was too late, the opportunity was gone.

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><p>He arrived at St Catherine's a few hours later. He was looking forward to seeing his sister, her husband, nieces and nephew. As he pulled into her drive, Sarah was standing in the doorway waiting for him; his two nieces were waving through the living room windows. He walked towards the house, bent his head down and kissed the tiny infant in her arms.<p>

"Hey sis," he said giving her a hug.

"Hey little bro," she said laughing, and hugged him once more. She looked over his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, as if she was looking for something.

"Just you?" she inquired.

"Yes Sarah, it's just me," he replied in a monotone manner.

"Oh, I thought you were going to ask your partner. I made up the spare room and everything," she continued.

"She couldn't make it," he said flatly.

'"Couldn't make it or you didn't ask?"

"Does it matter?" he said exasperated.

Sarah took that as her cue to stop asking questions. She looked at him narrowing her eyes, and pulled him into the house.

"We'll talk about this later," she stated.

"Geez, I can't wait."

"Neither can I," she retorted sticking out her tongue.

"Very mature Sarah," he said rolling his eyes, and chuckled.

Sam felt happy to be around his family. It was just him and Sarah, before she got married, but marriage seemed to agree with her. She had an air of calmness about her, that she never had when they were younger, and she genuinely seemed content. He wanted to experience that feeling too. He wasn't unhappy with his life, but wasn't completely happy either. The last few weeks he'd spent with Andy was wonderful. He genuinely enjoyed helping her fix her apartment, he liked spending time with her and they had alot of fun. Even though they saw each other every day for several weeks, even on their days off he never grew tired of her company. He would stay the night occasionally if they were up late finishing a job, and she would reward him with a cooked breakfast and a smile in the morning when he awoke. It was during this time he really began to entertain the idea of them being together. He'd love to be able to tell Bobby Richards and all the other members of the Andy McNally Appreciation Society to back off, than she was taken. That she was his.

After eating supper, and the kids were all fast asleep it was just the adults remaining. Sarah, who had managed to stay surprisingly quiet about the fact that Sam came alone, started firing questions.

"So what happened?"

Sam gave a loud sigh, he knew she wouldn't let it go, but he really had little to say.

"Nothing happened Sarah."

Steven, Sarah's husband looked between the two siblings. He knew he shouldn't get involved in whatever it was they were discussing, but he couldn't resist.

"What was supposed to happen?" he asked

"Sam said he was going to ask his partner to spend the weekend here with us," she replied.

"Why would he do that?" he looked confused.

"Because he has feelings for her."

Steven looked bewildered.

"You know... Feelings,". Sarah emphasised the word again.

"Oh...," he said nodding in realisation.

Sam sat back, and folded his arms clearly annoyed at their conversation about him, that obviously did not include him.

"I am here," he grumbled.

"Clearly.." she said. "Alone."

Both Steven and Sarah laughed.

He took the cushion he was leaning against and threw it at her.

"Not funny Sarah. I tried, it just didn't go to plan," he said in his defence.

"So she didn't actually say no?"

"No she didn't I suppose," Sam resigned

"So what did she say exactly?"

"Nothing. She said nothing. She did not hear me." Sam was feeling irritated again.

Sarah looked at her brother bemused.

"So, she never actually heard you?"

"No." Sam was feeling depressed now he said it out aloud.

"Did you whisper?" Steven butted in. Sarah giggled.

"Listen, this conversation is over." Sam was getting annoyed, and gave his brother-in-law a look that could kill.

The conversation was far from over, and by the end of his two days with his family, Sarah had somehow managed to convince Sam to ask Andy out again. Throughout his protests, she was always able to give him a reason, sometimes several as to why his fears were unfounded. Sarah never studied beyond high school, but she could make a fortune as a motivational speaker and life coach. She had a way of making you believe things were possible of you wanted it. So with a new found courage and resolve, Sam drove back to the city determined to ask Andy for a date.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- Many thanks for all your reviews and alerts. I am glad you are enjoying it so far. As the story continues, more is being revealed, so you will just have to stick with me if you want to know what happens! This chapter is slightly longer than all the others, as I needed to explore Sam's predicament. I actually felt quite emotional writing it, how pathetic is that? Reviews make my day... As always enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Out in the Cold.<strong>

Sam returned from St Catherine's early that afternoon. He was due to start the early shift the following day, and was anxious to speak to Andy before then. He had sent her a text message to see if she wanted to have breakfast before their first shift back, but she had not replied. He sent her another about an hour later, and when she still didn't respond, he decided to call. Her phone did not ring, and went straight to the voicemail, so he left a message.

"Hey Andy, it's me. I um... I just called to see if you wanted to have breakfast tomorrow. I thought maybe that diner you like near your apartment. Um, but we can go elsewhere if you want or we can just have coffee." He cleared his throat, becoming more tongue tied as his rambling continued. "So, um... just let me know ok? It's Sam in case you were wondering."

He did not want to seem desperate, but he needed to talk to her and get his feelings out there once and for all. Sam needed Andy to see him as a potential candidate for her heart, and not just a friend. He was willing to let down his guard and tell her everything, if she agreed to meet him. After leaving one more equally uninspiring message, he gave up, and busied himself with household chores. He felt frustrated at the outcome and his confidence was beginning to wane once again. Remembering Sarah's motivational words, he decided all was not lost. He would see her tomorrow at work for their shift. Hopefully they would be partnered together, and then he would talk to her. _Really talk to her._

The following morning, Sam arrived at the Barn, got changed into his uniform and headed straight for parade. He was surprised to see Andy there before him again. She was sitting at the front talking to Traci, who was laughing at something she had said. He was still somewhat miffed that she had not returned any of his phone calls or messages, but concluded there must be a reasonable explanation, as Andy had never not returned his calls before. He listened to Frank's briefing, and as predicted, and much to his relief they were partnered together. But almost as soon as he allocated their union, Frank changed his mind.

"Swarek you are now with Nash. McNally you are on desk duty," he ordered, and walked out of room.

Sam was slightly taken aback. He didn't mind working with Traci, she was a solid cop, and on any other day he wouldn't be too concerned at this impromptu change from the norm. However, this was not just any other day, this was the day he would finally say something to the woman of his dreams. Andy turned to face Sam, shrugged and gave him a small smile.

"Maybe tomorrow, eh partner?" she said.

Sam smiled, trying to hide the disappointment in his eyes. With no other options, he'd wait and ask her tonight, after their shift had finished. Maybe they could grab a bite to eat and they could finally talk.

* * *

><p>It was a busy shift, and several hours later Traci and Sam were making their way back to base, exhausted and ready to have a few drinks at the Penny.<p>

Sam was thankful for the distraction, if it had been a slow day; he probably would have sat thinking about Andy, which would have very likely manifested itself into a bad mood. Even Sam would readily admit that his bad moods were never a pretty sight and was not for the faint hearted. Very few people were able to handle him when he got like this. Normally, those close to him kept a distance, Oliver usually made jokes at his expense and Andy, well Andy liked to talk him out of his mood. Yet now he couldn't get her to communicate with him at all. In reflection, she had been strange all week, and now not responding to any of his messages which was so out of character for her. He couldn't imagine what could have happened in the last week to make her pull away from him so drastically; it was as if she couldn't stand to be around him no more.

Sam got changed quickly, and waited outside the female locker room for Andy. He was full of nervous energy, but the possibility of having Andy in his arms that night was the only thing stopping him from grabbing his bag and bolting towards the exit. Before long, Andy emerged, bag slung over her shoulder and in deep thought. She was so focussed on leaving, she never noticed Sam leaning up against the wall as she made her way out.

"Andy," he said grabbing her arm.

She stopped and looked up at him, looking almost inconvenienced at him being there.

"You ok?" he said. "You seem a million miles away."

"Yeah," she said shaking her head from her thoughts. "I'm just in a bit of a rush that's all."

"You wanna get something to eat? My treat," he said smiling. It probably looked more like a grimace he thought, in his attempt to make things relaxed.

"No, not tonight. I'm going to see my dad, and….. stuff."

"Stuff?" Sam slowly repeated and frowned slightly. It was the second time she had used that phrase in the last few days, and he could feel his mood darkening. Gripping her arm tighter, he stepped closer into her personal space so their noses were almost touching. His tone dropped a pitch as he spoke.

"Listen McNally, I get it ok. If you didn't want to have breakfast with me all you had to do was say. You don't have to avoid me; it's not nice and it's unnecessary."

Andy looked up at him confused.

"Breakfast? What are you talking about Sam?"

"My message, or should I say messages. A simple text would have sufficed. Did you ask Frank to be on desk duty so you didn't have to speak to me? Really mature McNally."

Andy stumbled back out of his grasp, rubbing her arm. His voice sounded alien to her, he'd never spoken to her in that way before.

"Sam, what's got into you?" she cried.

_You! He wanted to scream at her._

She bent down, rummaged through her bag, and pulled out her cell phone.

"See!" she said, turning the phone towards him. "No missed calls or messages. Why would I ignore you? You're my friend!"

She looked hurt by his accusations, and turned the phone back to her to check the time, and suddenly swore. Realising the battery was dead, she swore again, cursing herself for not noticing. What if the hospital had been trying to contact her about treatment? She had been so busy the last few days that she forgot to charge the phone. Andy thought back to when she last used it, and realised she spoke to Christine, early yesterday morning. That conversation had been etched in her memory since, and it was what she had been thinking about, when Sam had accosted her in the corridor.

"Oh Sam, I'm so sorry" she said apologetically, showing him the phone again, "The battery is dead."

For a brief moment she could have sworn he was about the cry, but her lack of sleep was making her overly sensitive to things. She was certain he was upset, and angry with her, she could see it in his expression. She would have loved to have had dinner with him tonight and make things right between them, but she had already spent too much time there already. She stepped back into his personal space, looking at him directly in the eyes.

"Sam," she said softly, placing her hand on his chest. "I would never have intentionally ignored you or avoided you. You know that right?"

Sam nodded and shrugged his shoulders at the same time. He wasn't sure of anything no more. Sam Swarek was always cool, calm and in control, yet right now he was upset and one step away from becoming hysterical because Andy didn't return his messages.

"Listen Sam, I really have to go. We'll catch up tomorrow, do lunch or something?" she said, glancing at her watch.

All Sam could do was nod.

She kissed him on the cheek, hoping that it was some way of conveying the sincerity of her words. She really couldn't stay any longer; she was definitely running late now.

"We ok?" she questioned.

"Yeah, we're ok," Sam said.

"Good," she said smiling at him, "I gotta go."

She hurried out of the barn, breaking into a small jog in order to get to her destination on time. Sam watched her disappear, and sighed. He felt completely deflated by the whole scenario. Not wanting to go home just yet, he made his way to the Penny, where hopefully his best friend but most definitely several glasses of Scotch were waiting, to help him forget the disaster that was his love life.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Sam made an extra special effort in getting ready. He arrived at the barn and made his way to parade. He felt positive that today would be better than yesterday, and conceded some sort of normality was returning to his life when he saw Andy rush past and run into the changing room with five minutes to spare. He smiled to himself, and decided that yesterday was just a case of crossed wires. Here was his Andy doing what she did best. Running late. He entered parade and sat next to Oliver, who nodded his head in greeting.<p>

"How's the head brother…. and the heart?" he quipped.

Before Sam could respond with a cutting remark aimed at Oliver's expanding waistline, Frank arrived and began to brief the officers on the day's events. Andy ran in a few minutes later, and took her usual seat at the front. Frank raised his head at her late arrival but made no comment. Sam noted she looked slightly dishevelled. Her braid was slightly messy and she looked tired. As if she read his mind, she yawned, covering her mouth to prevent the sound that would permeate throughout the room. Again, she was assigned to desk duty, much to Sam's annoyance and irritation. Sam was partnered with Dov, which only served to make his mood worse.

By the time they got a lunch break, Sam was close to throttling Dov, who did nothing but blabber on all morning about the gossip of the division. Needing to escape his chatter for a short while, Sam made his way to the deli not too far from the station. He brought two different types of sandwiches, two cups of coffee and a large slice of chocolate cake. He made his way to the front desk to find Andy, and she smiled when she saw him approaching. She'd missed their chats, and it seemed ages since they last were together.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," Sam responded. "Ready for lunch?"

"Yes I am! I haven't eaten anything since yesterday." Her smile was so warm and inviting, that Sam had no option but to smile back.

As they only had around thirty minutes, they decided to stay inside and went to an empty interrogation room to eat. Andy slid down the wall on to the floor and removed her boots, wiggling her toes and flexing her calf muscles.

"Make yourself comfortable McNally," he teased, and sat down on the floor next to her. He was not too bothered whether they sat at the table or on the floor just as long as they were together.

"I just need to stretch a bit," she said, raising her hand to stifle another yawn that was threatening to escape.

Sam gave her a sandwich, and out of habit they swapped one half with one another, so they both got to taste what the other had. Andy brought her knees to her chest and began to eat.

"Thanks Sam," she said in between mouthfuls.

Sam smiled at her, and winked in response.

"So what's new?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Nothing much," she said.

"How come you are on desk duty again?"

"Probably just my turn I guess," she responded nonchalantly. However, she secretly suspected, Frank was doing this in some misguided attempt at helping her, but she kept that to herself.

They sat in silence finishing their sandwiches, both lost in their own private thoughts. Andy was thinking about the week's recent events, and Sam wondering how to approach the subject of 'them'. Andy yawned again, rested her forehead against her knees and groaned loudly.

"You tired?" Sam asked softly.

Andy nodded. 2I haven't really been sleeping properly," she admitted.

Sam moved closer to Andy, and with one hand began to massage her neck. She angled her head allowing him more access. He moved his body and swivelled his legs so that one was on either side of her hips, and she unconsciously moved closer to Sam, so that her back was close to his chest. Using both hands he applied more pressure to her neck and shoulders, pressing his thumbs firmly against her spine trying to ease her tension, and she moaned softly.

"Feel good?" he gently asked. Andy simply nodded, and sighed.

"You know…" he said cautiously,' this could be a regular thing if you wanted.'

"Are you gonna be my personal masseur?" she laughed unreservedly.

"I can be more than that," Sam said hesitantly. "That is… I mean if you want me to be."

He let out the breath he'd been holding, and continued applying pressure to her neck and shoulders, allowing her to mull over his proposal. His heart was beating so hard, he thought he may very well pass out. Andy remained silent, fully comprehending what he had just said, but having no idea how to respond. The silence was threatening to consume Sam, so he continued to speak.

"The thing is Andy; we get on well, great really. We like the same things, it wouldn't be any different really except we'd see each other more, get to go away together and do things as a couple. We could take things slow, I know it's been a while since you were in a relationship, it's been a while for me too..."

Still Andy said nothing and the silence was suffocating. Sam didn't know what to say, but the need to keep talking was his way of staying in control. He was laying it all on the line, and as much as he wanted to run and hide he simply couldn't. His repressed thoughts from the last two years had finally made their way to the surface, and it refused to remain unheard.

"Andy, I really like you. I think you're beautiful, funny, intelligent and loyal. I know we are good together, but we could be great together. Yeah I can be grumpy, sarcastic, moody and lots of other things, but you'd always be my priority. If you give me the chance I'll show you just how important you are to me."

Very little happened for the next several seconds. Sam stopped massaging her shoulders and said nothing, recognising it was time for him to stop talking. Andy quickly shuffled forward, put on her boots and began to lace them. Her mind was spinning, torn between holding him tight and running away to cry. She rose to her feet and made her way to leave. Andy knew she should say something, but she didn't know where to begin. If she told Sam how she felt, then she would have to say it all, and she didn't think he would want her once he heard the truth.

"Sam," she said shaking her head, and turned to look down at him still on the floor.

"It's okay Andy," he said sadly. He was surprisingly calm by her rejection. No doubt when the reality of it all sunk in, he'd be drowning his sorrows at the Penny once more.

"No it's not okay... The thing is that, being with me wouldn't be easy. I have lots of issues, I'm not who you think I am." She really was struggling to express herself without revealing too much. Sam remained quiet, the pain he could feel in his heart was getting stronger, and despite the wordiness in declaration of love, he had now lost the ability to articulate how he was feeling.

"Why do you think I stay single?" she questioned, not really expecting an answer.

Sam stared at her, watching a range of emotions wash over her face. He tilted his head slightly waiting to hear her response.

"Because once a person gets close to me, they leave and then it's down to me to recover. So I find reasons not to pursue a serious relationship with a man. I mean some of my reasons were justified, but some were just me looking for a get out clause... Say we did this thing you're suggesting, if you left me I truly don't think I'd recover. Ever."

"Andy, I'd never leave you," he choked. _I've been waiting for you all my life._

"You can't guarantee that Sam, nothing in this life is guaranteed," she said bitterly.

She started to pace the room, she was getting agitated and dragged her hands roughly through her hair.

"You mean so much to me that if you turned your back on me, it would just confirm the feeling of worthlessness I already carry with me every single day."

"Why would you talk about yourself like that Andy?"

"Because it's true. You don't have a clue about me Sam; if you did you wouldn't want to be with me. I wouldn't want to be with me."

"So tell me Andy, what is so terrible that you can't tell me?" Sam said rising to his feet.

They both stood facing one another. She looked at Sam carefully, taking in his features especially his warm eyes, and she desperately wanted to tell him. She opened her mouth to continue speaking, but closed it again.

"Talk to me Andy, don't shut me out," he pleaded.

"I can't...please don't force me." She shook her head, willing the tears that had pooled in her eyes not to fall.

Sam knew she had reached her limit, and had told him so much more than she ever expected. He knew this was only scraping the surface, but he was certain what he had just heard, came from some vault buried deep inside of her.

"So you're not ready for us?" he asked calmly. He knew the answer, but needed to hear it from her.

"No," Andy said shaking her head.

"Will you ever be ready for this?" he replied, gesturing between the two of them.

"I don't know, I hope so," she replied honestly. "Now is just the wrong time for so many reasons, and if I am being truly honest with you, I don't know if there will ever be a right time." Her shoulders slumped; she kept her eyes on the floor. The tears she had been fighting so hard to control now fell with complete disregard.

"I have all the time in the world Andy," Sam said, watching her intently.

"Yeah?" she whispered somewhat unsure, raising her eyes to meet his.

"Yeah," he nodded reassuringly.

Sam held out his hand, which she took, and he led her to the table than stood in the centre of the room.

"Sit," he said firmly, ushering her into an empty chair, and she hesitantly complied.

He picked up the uneaten chocolate cake from the floor, placing it between them on the table, and sat to face her. Opening the container it was in and handing her one of the two forks, he smiled encouragingly at her and began to eat.

"This is really good chocolate cake Andy, try some."

She took a small bite and nodded in agreement.

"Yep. It's pretty good."

They sat in silence, just watching one another and savouring the sweet, sticky dessert. Andy stretched an arm across the table and held Sam's hand. He looked down at their conjoined palms, and ran his thumb across her knuckles. As long as Sam held her hand, Andy felt grounded and he was her anchor, who completely understood what she needed right now. For those few minutes, she forgot about the realities of her life, and the uphill struggle she was going through to survive the curve ball which had been thrown in her direction. This beautiful, strong man had no expectations from her, seeming to accept her imperfections and all, and however brief this moment was, she felt completely at peace. Andy knew she needed to tell him her story, but she wasn't quite ready to do so. It was only a matter of time, as she already told him much so more than she'd ever told anybody. Andy still needed to keep him at a distance, especially regarding her recent turn of events. However, her current revelations had allowed him to step just that little bit closer into her world.

_Loose Lips Sink Ships. _It had served her well until now, but she wondered if that still applied, when you had already fallen overboard and was drowning.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN- Thanking you for your reviews- they make me smile. And so the story continues, and slowly but surely we will get to the truth...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Everything Changes &amp; Everything Stays the Same.<strong>

The following shift Sam was partnered with Andy, and they were both pleased to be working together again. Despite their recent revelations to one another, there was no awkwardness between them, and things remained relatively the same. They were assigned to traffic patrol, and although not exactly thrilling for Sam, for Andy she was elated that Frank had finally allowed her out of the confines of desk duty.

Eight hours of traffic patrol had pushed Sam to the brink of boredom and Andy into a state of exhaustion. She suddenly appreciated the method in Frank's madness and craved being back on desk duty, answering calls and filling endless amounts of paperwork. Her back ached, her eyes stung, her shoulders hurt and she had an unrelenting headache. After issuing her twentieth ticket for speeding, she felt ready to curl up into a ball and fall asleep on that very spot. Andy yawned loudly, silently praying she was assigned back to desk duty the following day. Sam looked at her and was worried, she didn't look right. Her skin seemed dull, there were definite bags under her eyes and her hair, one of his favourite features, just seemed very lack lustre.

"Hey McNally," Sam said, "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah," she said, "I'm just feeling a bit under the weather. I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."

"Are you eating properly?" he questioned. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn she had lost weight.

"I'm alright Sam, stop worrying." She smiled at him but he couldn't help notice that it didn't quite reach her eyes. He didn't smile back, and just furrowed his brow in concern.

They both returned back to the barn, thankful that their shift was almost over, and finished up their remaining time completing paperwork. Andy was grateful for the respite, and was even more grateful when Sam brought her a cup of steaming hot coffee, which she finished in several large gulps. They sat at their desks occasionally conversing but mainly focussing on the task at hand. Not too far away Frank stood in his office watching Andy closely, and he had to give her credit where credit was due. She had remained focussed in her job, and apart from the occasional lateness, which wasn't really anything new, he had not heard any negative reports. He had consciously chosen to put her on lighter and less stressful duties, and he was reluctant to put her on traffic patrol today. He did so begrudgingly after she had suggested she would like a change. He was sure she would have regretted it by now, and accepted that desk duty was really the best option for now. She was stubborn, but it was that inner strength and stubbornness that was keeping her going. He could already see the effects the situation was having on her, she looked extremely tired and not her usual self in only a matter of weeks. It was definitely taking its toll on her, but until she did something that put herself or others in danger, his hands were tied. She had asked him for his discretion, and he was a man of his word, so he silently watched and monitored the situation, preparing to intervene if necessary.

* * *

><p>The week pretty much continued in the same fashion. Andy was on desk duty and Sam was partnered with different officers. Normally, he would see Andy briefly when booking in a suspect, but they never saw each other outside work like they used to, and she had shied away from the Penny every night. He missed her, and all her friends missed her too, but there was nothing anybody could do to change her mind.<p>

The following day was the last but one in the spat of early shifts, and Andy was assigned to desk duty with Gail. Gail had requested to be on the desk, due to a sprained ankle, or so she claimed. She wanted to work with Andy today and see exactly what was going on. She had asked the others what they knew, and they all claimed not to know why Andy had stopped coming with them to the Penny. She always told them she was tired and had a lot on, but Gail knew otherwise. She was smarter than the others, and had the ability to detect the subtleties of a puzzle and piece them together. Gail had seen Andy and Frank together, Andy was much quieter than usual and most importantly she had noticed that Andy was practically always on desk duty. Being assigned to desk duty was often seen as a punishment amongst the other officers, and to be on it constantly, meant somebody was pissed off, or as Gail suspected, Frank wanted Andy there for a specific reason. All she had to do was work out what that specific reason was.

Both Gail and Andy sat at the desk, saying very little to one another. Andy sighed, wishing she was with one of the others, at least she could find out how things were with the rest of her friends. Traci kept her updated by text, but it just wasn't the same. She missed their girly chats, Dov's crazy antics and her conversations with Chris. Yet here she was stuck with the Ice Queen herself, Gail Peck. There was very little she had missed about Gail, in fact she missed nothing about her at all.

"So…" Gail said coolly, "Anything new?"

"No," Andy responded, keeping her attention to her paperwork, and sipping her coffee.

"You do know caffeine isn't good for you? It discolours your teeth."

"Huh?" was all Andy could manage, at the randomness of that statement. She tried not to converse too much with Gail, knowing she would end up either annoyed or insulted, but generally a combination of the two.

"Caffeine…" she continued unperturbed. "You've drunk about five cups of coffee in the last two hours...Not that I was counting."

Andy took another sip of her coffee, and rolled her eyes in irritation.

"What are you the coffee police?" Now she was annoyed.

Before Gail could reply, the telephone rang, temporarily halting any further conversation. Gail sat back in her chair and watched Andy on the phone, she definitely looked tired, and something was keeping her up. Maybe it was a man...maybe it was Swarek. It didn't take a genius to know he had a thing for Andy, Gail suspected she had a thing for him too.

"So…" Gail said trying again, "Seeing anybody new?"

"No."

"It's just that we hardly see you at the Penny these days..."

"Just busy." Andy was purposely avoiding eye contact, and trying her hardest to keep the conversation to a minimum.

"So maybe we'll see you tonight then?" Gail invited, feigning an amiable friendship.

"I'm not feeling very well today, I think I'm just going to have an early night," she relented, giving more information than she wanted.

"You do look a bit peaky, and you've been coughing a bit. Maybe you should go home now. You shouldn't really be here, if you are going to infect your colleagues. It is actually a rule."

"I'm fine; I'll go home when my shift ends," Andy snapped. Now she had been insulted.

Andy turned away and started playing with her cell phone, which put an end to their conversation once and for all.

* * *

><p>Sam had finished his shift late, and by the time he had arrived at the barn most of the early shift were making their way to the Penny. He had asked Traci, if Andy was going too, and she had said no. Apparently, Andy had a headache and was going to go home to bed and sleep it off. It was still early, so Sam decided to go home too, and would check in on Andy later to make sure she was alright and didn't need anything.<p>

Later that evening, Sam approached Andy's apartment complex. Running up the flight of stairs, two steps at a time he approached her front door and rang the bell. There appeared to be no one in, and he considered maybe she had fallen asleep. After knocking several more times, and standing around for a while, he was about to walk away, when he heard coughing coming from inside. It wasn't a normal cough, as if somebody was clearing their throat, but a chesty cough that could only mean the owner was ill.

Sam banged his fists on the door.

"Andy!" he yelled, "Open up it's me."

Andy stood in her hallway, clasping her hand over her mouth, willing her cough to stay at bay for a few minutes, and willing Sam to go away. She tried to control her breaths, in a bid to suspend the inevitable. Her face was contorted and getting redder, and her breathing more laboured. Just as she thought Sam had left, she started coughing uncontrollably, and destroyed any possibility of escaping him. The banging continued, and she knew that he would not leave once he had heard her. Silently filled with dread, she pulled her night gown around her; and went to open the door.

"Hey Sam," she said opening the door slightly.

"McNally," he sighed in relief, moving forwards to enter.

Sam's entry was blocked by the door chain, and he looked at her puzzled.

"So you gonna let me in?" he asked, somewhat peeved.

"I was just about to go to sleep," she said. In hindsight, she wondered why she attempted to pretend otherwise. Sam always knew when she was keeping things from him, he saw through it every single time. This time was no different, by the annoyed look he gave her.

"Open the door McNally, before I kick it down," he said bluntly.

He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but she was hiding something.

"I've seen you in your pyjamas before, if that's what you're worrying about. I've brought you home-made chicken soup, and some other stuff to make you feel better. I heard you weren't feeling well."

Andy hesitated, unhooked the chain, and stepped back allowing Sam to pass. As soon as he entered, the first thing Sam noted was the cold, her apartment was freezing.

"Jesus Andy!" he cried out, "You do realise it's winter right? What's wrong with your heating?"

"It's not that cold, it must be you, I feel fine," she said hastily in response and coughed again. Every cough made her chest hurt and her eyes water.

Sam continued walking through the lounge, towards the kitchen, where he placed numerous bags on the counter. He opened the container of chicken soup and went to her cupboard to find a bowl. She watched him move around her kitchen with ease, opening a drawer for a spoon, demonstrating a familiarity with his surroundings. It had been a while since he had visited her, and she found his presence both comforting and irritating at the same time. Pulling her gown tighter around her, she walked closer towards Sam taking the bowl of soup he had extended to her. She welcomed the heat it brought to her icy fingers, and after several spoonfuls she could feel the benefits from this goodness in a bowl. She ate hungrily and quickly, not stopping for a breath.

"It's really good," she said shyly, when she saw Sam watching her with a small smile on his face.

"I can tell," he replied sarcastically. "It's one of Sarah's recipes, well it was my mom's really, but Sarah showed me how to cook it. Pretty good if I do say so myself," he boasted.

"Always modest," she smirked.

"Just saying it as I see it McNally," he said cockily.

Andy rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to yelp at the pain in her head caused by that simple action. She smiled at him and shook her head slowly, and continued eating the soup.

"So how long are you going to be off work?" he enquired opening her fridge to look for a beer, and was startled to find her fridge void of any beer, or any food for that matter. It was completely empty.

"Oh, I'll be in tomorrow although Frank told me to stay at home," she said, "we're off for a few days after that anyway."

Sam closed the fridge door, and returned his gaze back to Andy. She was leaning against the counter, scraping the last remnants of soup from the bowl. That was when he really took in her appearance. She was wearing thick socks, her pyjamas, covered by a sweater, and her night gown over that. Andy looked up and saw him watching at her, and subconsciously brushed her hair with her hand, in a feeble attempt to look presentable. She couldn't place the expression he was giving her, but it made her uncomfortable, it was like he was looking right into her soul. She felt stripped bare, which was laughable as she was standing in several layers of clothing, in an attempt to keep warm.

"Why is your heating off, Andy?" he questioned.

"I wasn't feeling cold, so I left it off," her face was getting red, and she wad fiddling with her earring in her right ear. She realised how ludicrous that sounded as she was dressed as if there were a blizzard. Sam folded his arms across his chest and stared at her, looking unimpressed with her response.

"Why is your heating off?" he repeated much more firmly.

Andy bit her bottom lip, desperately trying to say something that would deflect from the conversation which was evolving, but came up with nothing. Sam stepped closer to her, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Why is the heating off, Andy?" he said again, but much more softly.

That soft touch and words was the missing key, and she spoke openly.

'"I couldn't afford to pay the bill," she admitted, averting her eyes.

"But we just got paid," Sam said.

Andy remained silent.

"What about your savings? It's not really the weather to forgo being warm," he jested, trying to make light of the situation, although the feeling in his gut told him otherwise.

"I don't have any savings," she stated.

"Andy, I don't understand..."

He was trying to process what she had just said and shifted his gaze past her shoulder, towards her living room, and noticed the television was missing. Releasing his hand from her shoulder, he moved and continued looking at his surroundings, his feet involuntarily taking him from room to room. Andy never followed him, remaining firmly rooted where she was, knowing Sam well enough to know he would soon want some sort of explanation. Apart from the television, Sam noted her music system, DVD player, microwave and coffee maker were no longer there. Sam wandered back to where she was and watched her, his head tilted at a slight angle. Andy's back was facing him, but she could feel his eyes on her and could only imagine the expression on his face. They were both silent, and Andy spoke first, keeping her back towards him throughout. She didn't want him to see her embarrassment, and she didn't want to see the pity in his eyes. Almost three weeks ago, the world was her oyster, and now she had been reduced to drinking several cups of sugary coffee, and eating one small meal a day in order to sustain her energy. She was constantly hungry, but had managed to ignore the hunger pains by thinking about the greater good in her choices. With that in mind, all this seemed a small sacrifice to make; besides there was really no alternative.

"There isn't much to understand, Sam. I needed the money, so I did what I needed to do in order to get it," she said truthfully.

Sam was speechless.

"So there were other things that needing paying?" he questioned.

"Yep," she nodded, still keeping her face away from him.

"How much money did you need?"

"A lot," she said guardedly.

"You should have said, maybe I could have helped. Andy, you shouldn't have to sell your things."

"Well, I didn't really have a choice Sam, and it's not that big a deal," she said calmly. "It's only things, things can be replaced."

"Selling your stuff isn't a big deal? It seems a pretty big deal to me!" he pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counting to ten. He couldn't believe how casual she was being. "What else did you need the money for?" he asked.

Andy remained silent. This was one conversation she was not ready to have.

"Listen Sam, I really need to go to sleep right now," she said walking towards the door, which she swung open, motioning for him to leave.

"We haven't finished discussing this Andy."

"Sam I really need to sleep," she sighed.

She didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"Andy we need to talk," he said more firmly.

"I don't want to talk Sam," she responded with equal resolve.

"Well that's a first! You know, not wanting to talk," he said angrily. He was getting frustrated at her obvious attempt of avoiding any serious discussion.

Andy didn't argue back, she didn't have the strength or the inclination.

"Fine Sam. Do what you want, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight," she simply said, closing the door. She made her way to the bedroom, leaving Sam alone at a loss for words and what to do.

Sam sat on the edge of her coffee table, not having a clue what to do. Andy didn't have money, so had sold her items. He repeated that statement in his mind several times, allowing the enormity of the situation to sink in. Andy, who was careful with money, saved regularly every month and even cut money off coupons from the newspaper to use when she shopped, was now selling her items to make ends meet. Something was not right about this state of affairs, something was definitely wrong.

* * *

><p>Andy lay in her darkened room, with several blankets pulled up to her chin, waiting for sleep to claim her. She could hear Sam moving around her apartment and sighed, this was not exactly what she had planned, and she hoped he would have left by now. Not having had her television for almost three weeks, had meant she had more time to reflect, and would often find herself thinking back to her childhood. She kept replaying several significant moments in her head, memories she had forgotten but more likely than not had chosen to repress. These memories normally occurred when she was alone, and all was quiet, and they often made her cry. Not all her memories were painful, there were happier times too as a young McNally, and these happier times helped her drift to sleep, when things were getting too much and she felt like giving up.<p>

_"Hey __Kiddo!" __Tommy __McNally __cried._ _Andy __ran __into __his __arms __and __held __him __tight, __desperately __not __wanting __to __let __him __go._

_"What did you bring me!" she laughed loudly, patting down his pockets, looking for some sugary confectionary hidden on his body. Her hand stopped suddenly on a bulge in his shirt pocket. Tommy opened his eyes wide with a mock surprise and chuckled softly._

_"What's that you found Kiddo?" he asked, knowing full well he had stuffed his pocket just minutes prior._

An_dy_ _smiled __widely, __and __put __her __hand __in __his __pocket, __pulling __out __a __bag of __candy. __Without __waiting __for __any __formalities, __she __tore __open __its __plastic __wrapping __and __began __to __devour __the __sugary __delight.__This __was __most __certainly __the __start __of __her __lifelong __love __affair_ of _all __things __sweet, __and __the __feelings __she __associated __with __it._

_Tommy __would __sit __with __her __a __while, __watching __a __cartoon __on __the __television __or __reading __her __a __story. H__e __was __really __great __at __telling __stories, __and __would __change __his __voice __depending __on __the __character __or __scene._ _After __some __time __he'd __get __up __to __leave._

_"See you kiddo, got to go and chase some bad guys," he'd say pulling her pigtail with an accompanying sound effect, and she would giggle. _

_Andy __would __hold __his __hand, __so __tiny __in __his __large __palm __and __they'd __walk __towards __the __front __door. __He'd __walk __away __and __turn __to __wave __at __her __just __before __entering __his __car.__That __was __their __weekly __ritual, __which __turned __into __a __thrice __weekly __ritual __which __made __her __feel __safe __and __wanted_.

Andy was interrupted from her thoughts by a small tap on her bedroom door. Sam opened the door and peered into the darkness.

"Andy, you awake?" he whispered.

"You're still here then," she said, focussing her attention to the ceiling.

He came and sat down on the bed next to her.

"I'm sorry for getting angry," he said, "I guess I just worry about you."

"I know you do, but I'm a big girl, I can handle things by myself," she responded somewhat subdued.

"I know you can, but sometimes it's nice to have help right?"

"Maybe."

"So I've been thinking... I have a spare room…"

"No, I'm fine thank you," she said abruptly cutting him off mid sentence.

"Just hear me out Andy. If you say no after that then we won't talk about it again, okay?"

Andy turned her head to face him; even in the dark she could feel his concern for her.

"So I have a spare room, you can use it till you get back on your feet. You'd really be doing me a favour by keeping me company. Besides, you'd get a ride to work…."

"You give me one whenever I need it anyway," she interrupted.

"Fine. But it's a hell of a lot warmer at mine than here. I promise I won't tell anybody if that's what you're worried about, but I can't have you stay here Andy, I won't let you stay here."

"You won't let me stay here?" she asked incredulously, "I think that's up to me, don't you?"

"Don't get all feminist on me McNally," he said sternly, grabbing her arm and pulling her up. "Pack a bag and come stay with me."

That sudden motion, made the room spin, and she grabbed Sam with her spare hand for support.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just a little dizzy."

"Well I tend to have that effect on women," he smiled.

"Yeah, it's that body odour thing you've got going on," she teased, swinging her legs to the side of the bed.

They sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, comfortable in each others space.

"I can't pay you rent Sam."

"I don't want rent Andy," he said mimicking her tone of voice.

"I won't be in the house very much…."

"That's fine, I'll give you a key."

"I don't want you to change your plans to accommodate me."

"Duly noted. Thursday night remains poker night," he deadpanned.

"Sam."

"Andy."

"I'm being serious!"

"So am I. Are we done yet?" he said sounding bored. "You'll stay with me, you'll pay no rent, you'll have a key, poker night stays and you can come and go as you please no questions asked. I think we've covered anything."

Andy leaned over and hugged him, and Sam responded almost immediately, holding her tight in a warm embrace. She relaxed into his body, taking in the scent of his aftershave.

"Don't over-think it McNally," he said. "I know you'd do the same for me."

"Yeah, I would," she nodded into his chest, crying softly.

They sat that way a while longer, Andy feeling his warmth and Sam stroking her hair, telling her everything would be fine. His hug gave her hope, and she thought that if she could bottle his hug and sell it, she'd be a millionairess.

"Sam?" Andy whispered.

"Yeah McNally."

"Thanks."

"Anytime McNally. Anytime."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN-Thank-you, Thank-you, Thank-you for so many lovely reviews. I felt so happy at the response, that I have given you all another chapter because I love you all so much! This chapter is pretty loaded and there are several flashbacks as well just to make things more interesting. It will probably add to your suspense (plus frustration), and will not give all the answers some of you are looking for, but we are almost there I swear so don't hate me! Please don't forget to review as it makes me smile and update faster...Enjoy!**

**Rookie Blue isn't mine- but Granny McNally is!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Daddy's Little Princess.<strong>

The drive to Sam's house was quiet, except for the gentle hum of the engine. Andy had fallen asleep almost instantly, probably brought about by the heat in the truck, the cough syrup Sam had given her and sheer tiredness. Sam was feeling a mixture of pride and relief at her acceptance of staying with him, and whilst it wasn't clear what was happening with her, he was satisfied things could be resolved if she remained under his watchful eye. He brushed her hair away from her face, and smiled noting she was wearing the locket he had brought her for her birthday. It was a simple design, but with intricately engraved flowers on its borders. When he first saw it in the jewellers window, he knew right away she would love it as it was very pretty yet understated. At the time Andy swore she would never take it off, and he thought she was being somewhat melodramatic in her own unique way, but there is was around her neck some eight months after he had given it to her. He couldn't help but think maybe she wasn't so melodramatic after all.

Fate had catapulted them together, and Sam was thankful to have her in his life, as she had become one of his best friends. He really had missed her over the last few weeks, and he knew she was keeping something from him, which was tearing her up inside. Whatever it was would not be straightforward and would complicated, things with Andy had a tendency to be that way. The Andy he knew had drawn into herself, but it seemed for a few minutes in her bedroom that evening, the Andy he knew and loved had made a brief cameo appearance. Andy mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, licked her lips several times and wrinkled her nose. Sam chuckled softly and wondered what she was dreaming about. He must remember to ask her later he thought.

_"Hey Kiddo, we're going to see your mom today."_

_"You found her!" Andy exclaimed, and Tommy nodded._

_The car journey seemed to take forever, or so it seemed in the mind of a five year old. Tommy had already told her three stories, she had eaten a bag of m&m's, one bar of chocolate, drank a bottle of water, and they still hadn't reached their destination. Tommy always made her drink water and she pulled a face._

_"Yuck," she cried, turning her nose up in disgust._

_"You need to drink some more water Kiddo, otherwise sugar trees will grow in your tummy."_

_"Sugar trees?" Andy's eyes opened wide, and glanced down at her belly._

_Tommy nodded seriously, trying to picture in his mind just exactly what a sugar tree would look like._

_"A tree will grow in my tummy?" she asked, with wonderment and uncertainty._

_"Sure thing Kiddo," Tommy laughed quietly, trying to keep a straight face._

_He smiled watching Andy glug down the water, this sweet little kid had grown to mean so much to him. They had emphasised the importance of not getting too close to a case, and to treat everything as evidence when he applied to be a detective, but how could he not? This beautiful little girl just needed love, and by finding her mother he hoped she'd find it. They approached a large house, that from the outside appeared to have seen better days. Tommy shut of the engine and turned to face the little girl sitting next to him._

_"Wait in the car Kiddo, I won't be long," he said smiling warmly, and she nodded in understanding._

_She sat waiting for Tommy, humming an unrecognisable tune to herself. She was going to meet her mom today, and she lived in that big house, she thought to herself. Tommy had brought her a new dress to wear, but she wasn't allowed to tell the other police officer as they would tell him off. Tommy was nice to her, but the other police officer was mean, he said her daddy and his friends were bad men, but they were always nice to her. Daddy called her his little princess, took her to work with him every day, and they always had hot dogs for lunch with lots of tomato ketchup. He was very important in his job and everybody called him boss, accept for Uncle Anton who called him Maurice. Daddy would check that the other men had packed his white powder properly and sometimes he would shout at them if they did it wrong. But he never shouted at her, he said he loved her and she was his special girl._

_"Let's go Kiddo," Tommy said walking back briskly towards the car, and started its engine. Andy was confused._

_"Where's my mom?" she asked, starting to cry. "You said I'd see my mom..."_

_Tommy wiped away the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling angry and upset. Angry for not thinking fully about what he was doing, and upset at that woman who had no interest in this adorable little girl, whose only crime was being born._

_"Not today Kiddo, she went away," he said, backing out of the drive, and turning the steering wheel to leave._

_"When will she be back? Can we come back and see her tomorrow?"_

_"No, sweetheart we can't."_

_A lady came running out of the property, a mess of large blonde curls, hurling insults and profanities. Waving her fist, she threw a beer can at the car window, and its contents dripped slowly down the rear window. Tommy cringed, and applied more pressure to the gas pedal._

_Andy continued crying, and Tommy berated himself for being so foolish, to think he could just drop off this little girl to a mother she barely remembered and all would be right in the world. He tried to pacify her, but she was inconsolable, asking for her mother over and over again. He had royally screwed this up, Boyko would severely reprimand him and he had no idea how to make things right._

Andy's cell phone rang, rousing her from her sleep and Sam from his thoughts.

"Hey dad," she croaked, smiling brightly and rubbing her eyes.

They spoke for a few minutes and Tommy said something which made Andy laugh. There was something so childlike and innocent about that laugh Sam thought. Andy reverted to a little girl when around her dad, and he found it quite endearing. He kept his eyes focussed on the road ahead, watching the snowflakes fall, but glanced at her every so often, to reassure himself she was alright and actually there.

"I'm fine, I'm feeling much better," she said into her phone. And she did look much better, she sat taller as if she were drawing strength from their conversation, and he could see the affection she had for Tommy in her eyes.

"I love you too dad," she said and she hung up the call.

Andy sat back in her seat with a small smile on her face and a faraway look.

"Penny for them?" Sam said.

"Huh?"

"Penny for your thoughts?" he clarified.

"Sam, you really are showing your age," she scoffed, "my grandmother, used to say that when I was a little girl."

"So let me get this right McNally, you are comparing me to an old lady?" Sam said indignantly.

"A 300 pound, old Irish lady to be precise," she retorted, twisting her body so she was facing him.

"Charming!" he said appearing wounded by her words.

"It's a compliment really. She was a fantastic woman, who would do anything to protect the ones she loved. She looked scary, but she was great, really great..." That same faraway looked returned to her face.

"You've never mentioned her before," Sam said, inquisitively.

"No I don't think I have," she said, after considering his statement. "What can I say Sam? You seem to be loosening me up."

"I like loose women McNally," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

"I bet you do Sam!" she said laughing out loud. Sam joined in and they were both still laughing as they pulled up outside his house.

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><p><em>"So how did it go Tommy?" his mother asked.<em>

_"Bad ma, real bad," Tommy said shaking his head._

_"Nonsense!"she said wiping her hands on her apron. 'Nothing can be that bad.'_

_"I messed up. I didn't think it through properly. You always say a child needs a loving family right? I thought I was doing the right thing, but it was the wrong thing. She was awful ma, real awful. You should have heard the things she said. She doesn't want to know, called Andy a mistake she'd rather forget. How could she say such nasty things about that sweet little child?"_

_"Not everybody is meant to be a parent Tommy. Just because you can make a baby, doesn't mean you are right for the job," she said wisely._

_She cut him a large slice of fruit cake, and poured a cup of tea. If one were to believe the philosophy of Margaret McNally, the solution to all life's problems could be found with a nice cup of tea. She sat opposite her son, watching him lovingly, gently ruffling his hair._

_"So tell me what happened, right from the beginning. Don't leave anything out, and we'll see if your old ma can help you work out what to do."_

_Tommy ran his hand roughly over his face and began to recount the day's events, whilst his mother listened intently._

_Margaret watched her son closely, the pain and obvious guilt was stamped heavily on his face. He was a good boy, she had raised him right, and although she didn't always agree in his choices, she could see that this little girl had stolen his heart. She never commented when he told her that he had started to visit her in the children's home. She thought he was just doing his job, when he started visiting her weekly. When he had started visiting her several times a week, Margaret knew it was much more than that, and he was forming a bond with her. She didn't see it as a bad thing; heaven alone knew that poor little child had seen far too much heartache, even if she was too young to fully understand. _

_"Take her in Tommy, it's the right thing to do," she said rising to her feet and started adding some vegetables to a stew she had simmering on the stove. _

_"I've thought about it, but it wouldn't work out ma. I've got to think about work and Sophia."_

_"Tsk," Margaret responded at the name of her daughter in law. There was no love lost between the two and they tolerated one another purely to keep the peace. They both had been living with Margaret since they got married, and were saving up to buy a place of their own, in a nice part of town of course. Tommy had been quite content being a beat cop, but Sophia had persuaded him to take his detective exams so they could enjoy a better life. Although, they did not live in the worse part of the city, it was hardly the best either. Sophia had delusions of grandeur, or as Margaret so eloquently put it: 'A rat is still a rat, even if it looks like a mouse,' when referring to the attributes of her sons wife. _

_"Well the way I see it, there's a little girl that needs a home, and you have a home to give her. She likes you, you like her, what is there to think about Tommy? I can help you look after her, and Sophia, well…she doesn't do much, so between the two of us we would manage."_

_"It's not that simple."_

_"Simple is as simple as you make it," she stated. Margaret was always full of funny sayings, that didn't always necessarily make sense to Tommy, but they were both cut from the same cloth, when it came to family matters. He wanted to take Andy too, but he had to consider his wife. She had been trying for the last two years to get pregnant, with no success. She may not be so keen to raise another person's child._

"Well..." Sam said to Andy, as they entered his home. "No need to show you around, you know where everything is."

Andy nodded; she undid her robe and slipped off her boots. She didn't bother to get dressed when they left her apartment, and she just threw her coat on and trudged through the snow to his truck. In contrast Sam's place was warm, very warm and her layers of clothing were starting to seem inappropriate. Sam took one of her bags, and Andy took the other and made their way up to what would now be her bedroom and dropped them on the floor.

"You hungry?" he asked.

Andy shook her head. "Something warm to drink would be nice though," she said.

"Tea? Coffee?"

Andy shook her head again.

"Milk please," she said shyly.

"Milk?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, warm milk, it's delicious. But not heated in the microwave, it has to be done in a saucepan."

"Okay..." Sam Said, "warm milk it is."

He was starting to learn new things about Andy already, and he stored that piece of information in the file he had mentally constructed in his head. He knew she loved her food, but had a particular thing for hotdogs with plenty of ketchup, anything sweet, tea and now it would seem warm milk as long as was heated in a saucepan.

* * *

><p>He left Andy alone, and she began to unpack her belongings. She put all her clothes away, and laid her toiletries and hair accessories on the dresser. Lastly, she put a photo of herself, her dad and grandmother on the bedside cabinet. It was taken on her fifteenth birthday, and was the last time they were all together. It had stayed in an album all these years and she only just recently put it in a picture frame. They all looked genuinely happy in that photo, and had just moved to a bigger house in a nicer part of town. It was a shame Sophia never got to see it. She never referred to her as mom no more; Sophia had lost that right the day she had walked out of their lives and never looked back.<p>

She sat on the edge of the bed staring at the photo, three generations of McNally's, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She had never once questioned the authenticity of that notion before, and it was never an issue when she was growing up. She had never felt more loved, safe and wanted in their household, and Andy knew she had Tommy to thank for that.

_"So __what __do __you __think_ Kiddo?" _Tommy __said __softly, __showing __Andy __her __new __room._

_Andy smiled timidly, and moved her body behind Tommy when Sophia came closer._

_"So do you like it Andrea? I know you like pink," she said. Andy nodded, keeping a firm grip on Tommy's hand._

_She looked at Sophia suspiciously, not really quite sure how to react when she called her Andrea. Tommy said that she would be her new mommy, and he would be her new daddy, and they would all live together along with Granny McNally. She was confused and wondered where her daddy and his friends were._

_"What if my daddy wants to see me?" she asked looking worried._

_"We spoke about this already Kiddo remember?" Tommy said crouching to her level, he felt a lump in his throat every time the topic came up._

_He turned to his mother for reassurance, and she nodded once, motioning for him to continue._

_"He's sleeping."_

_"After the bad man shot him?"_

_Tommy cleared his throat, trying hard to simplify things to a little girl, whose father had been shot by police in a drugs deal gone wrong. He was thankful she had stopped asking about seeing her mother again, that day still made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about it._

_"Yes, he's sleeping for a long time so I told him I would look after you….Okay?" he whispered nervously._

_"Okay," she said, simply accepting his explanation. _

_"Right!" said Margaret McNally, clapping her hands together loudly and moving them all into the kitchen, for a large slice of chocolate cake and tea._

_"So you're my new mommy?" Andy said to Sophia._

_"Yes," she said smiling. "Is that alright?"_

_Andy nodded, and started on a second slice of chocolate cake. She also drank a cup of tea for the first time. It was nice, warm, and sweet, much better than water she thought._

Andy made her way downstairs, and watched Sam briefly from the doorway. He was sitting on the couch, in just his T-shirt and jeans, with one knee bent to his chest. He had removed his shoes and socks, and was flicking through the channels, searching for something to watch on the television. She sat next to him, picking up the mug of warm milk, closing her eyes as she took a sip. She picked up one of the chocolate cookies he had placed on a small plate and dunked it in the milk for a few seconds, before popping it into her mouth, and sighed.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm okay," she replied.

"Spare key is on the counter," he said, tipping his head in its direction and resumed in watching some sort of wrestling. Andy wasn't really watching it, she was just content to have Sam close by. A short while later Andy bid Sam goodnight and went to sleep, glad there were no more further heavy conversations that night. Her mind was on overdrive, and mentally she couldn't handle anymore further discussion.

Sam didn't want to make things awkward for her, and was just happy to have her around. They had the next three days off, and he would use that time to get to the bottom of what was going on in her life, so things could go back to the way they were, and Andy would be happy again.

* * *

><p>It was midnight, when Sam was woken from his sleep, by noises coming from his kitchen. He got up, and made his way downstairs, thinking it was Andy raiding the fridge, when he heard the gentle click of the front door closing. He quickened up his pace just in time to see Andy walking slowly down the drive. She had a large bag slung over her shoulder, and stopped momentarily to look back at the house, almost as if she sensed she was being watched. Sam found himself ducking behind the curtain, even though he was certain she could not have seen him.<p>

He was annoyed to see her out alone that time of night, knowing full well his feelings on the matter. After what had happened to Sarah and the terrible things he had seen since joining the force, he was always concerned about female safety. He had taught Andy a few extra defence moves when she was a rookie, and always made sure she had a ride home if she was staying late at the Penny. She didn't even tell him she was going out, or leave some sort of message, and that made him mad. Still holding on to that rage, Sam grabbed his shoes and coat so he could jump into his truck and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing.

Just as he was about to leave, he remembered his words to her from earlier on. _You can come and go as you please, no questions asked._ Stupid he said out aloud to himself. He fell into that trap hook, line and sinker. There was no way he could approach her now without looking like a prize fool. He didn't want to piss her off and make her leave having just got her were he wanted. He knew if he pushed too hard she would run away, and he couldn't let that happen. So he decided he would say nothing to her when she returned.

Sam went back to bed, not quite able to fully relax and go back to sleep. After tossing and turning for some time, he turned on his bedside lamp, and began to read, glancing at the clock every so often. He felt like a father waiting for his young daughter, who was fast approaching her curfew and was no where to be seen. Sam was growing more anxious as time passed, having visions of Andy lying in a shallow grave, after being butchered by some crazy serial killer. He eventually managed to fall into a fitful and restless sleep all the while worrying about her whereabouts. When she still had not returned by the time he was due to leave for work, he called and left a message for Frank to request a personal day off.

It was about 8:30 am when he heard the keys in the front door and footsteps walking up the stairs. He opened his eyes suddenly when he heard the shuffle of footsteps stop directly outside his door. He lay poised waiting for Andy to enter, but she did not and the footsteps continued their journey to her own room, and closed the door. It took all the strength he had not to march into her room and demand where she had been most of the night. Sam waited a good while before he went to knock on her door, but there was no answer. He turned its handle hesitantly, and Andy was still fully clothed but fast asleep on top of the covers. He called out her name softly, but she made no movement except for a few intermittent coughs. He closed the door and slowly retreated to the kitchen, where he made himself a strong cup of coffee. He was trying not to over think things, but it was difficult when the person you cared about was shutting you out. He knew he had to leave well alone in this instance, or risk alienating Andy for good.

Andy spent most of the afternoon sleeping. She rose around 4pm, and after showering made her way downstairs.

"Hey sleepy head. How you feeling?" Sam asked.

"No better or worse," she replied, flopping on the seat next to him.

"You hungry? I made a casserole."

Andy shook her head.

"You have to eat Andy!" Sam frowned.

"I will later...I promise, my appetite is still a bit off that's all."

They sat watching movies until later that evening, when Andy glanced at her watch and jumped up.

"Where's the fire McNally?" Sam said sarcastically.

She had already buttoned up her coat and was pulling on her boots by the time he spoke.

"I gotta go," she said breathlessly, pulling her hat further down her head. "I've gotta be somewhere."

"Okay," Sam said, desperately trying not to look too concerned. "You need a ride?"

"No thanks, I'll walk. Don't wait up," she said.

"Okey Dokey."

Sam sat watching her leave, and in those few moments he made a split second decision which he knew he may very well live to regret. He quickly put on his shoes and coat, and grabbed his cellphone and keys. Opening his door and locking it behind him, Sam pulled up the collars of his coat, quietly cursing the bitter cold on his cheeks, and began to follow Andy to wherever it was she was going.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN- Apologies for not uploading sooner, work has consumed me for the last week, and there has been very little spare time. So, this chapter should answer a big question you've all been asking (but not all questions of course!). So if you are still left with what? who? why? where? and how? all I will say is, the story isn't over yet...Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Revelations &amp; Repercussions.<strong>

Sam followed Andy, trying to keep a reasonable distance so not to be detected. His experience undercover had taught him the art of lurking in the shadows unnoticed. Sam was thankful Andy had this weird walking fetish, where she loved to walk everywhere weather permitting. If she had chosen to take a bus, or taxi things would have become much more complicated, and he would more than likely have lost sight of her. Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued walking, stopping every so often when she slowed down to cross a busy road. If she knew he was following her, he shuddered to think what would happen to their friendship. With this thought firmly in his mind he held back, when Andy stumbled and almost slipped on the ice, as his first thought was to run to her aid. Luckily for him, Andy was able to compose herself and continued walking, and Sam continued walking too.

He took some comfort knowing she had listened to his advice on being safe, as she took well lit roads and avoided taking any shortcuts. Twice they had passed an alley way which would have reduced her journey, but she ignored them favouring a longer, but most definitely safer route. Sam tried to keep close enough, but at one point he almost lost her in a crowd, in a busy shopping area, if she wasn't for her pink coat. She loved pink, and it was definitely one of the nouns he would use if ever asked to describe her. Her pink lipgloss, her strawberry smelling shampoo, her girly laugh, and her pink accessories. Yes, Pink would defintely be one word he would use amongst many others. So he spent the rest of this mystery walk, thinking of words to describe Andy, yet keeping watch on where they were going.

They continued walking for a further forty five minutes, weaving in and out of roads, and if Sam didn't know better, he would have thought Andy was taking him on some sort of wild goose chase. They ended up in a part of town, Sam was not so familiar with, and was somewhere he would only drive through on his way to St Catherine's. Andy stopped suddenly, banging the stub of her boot into the snow, whilst waiting for the traffic light to change colour. She crossed another busy road, and turned into a quieter side street. There was nothing unique about this street, and no landmarks to signify anything important, Sam's eye was trained to take in his surroundings. There was an old library, which looked as if it was no longer in use on its corner, several other large non-descriptive buildings and small park. Further along the road was a bench, and opposite a large red brick building, that looked as if it was quite grand in its day. Andy sat on the bench staring straight ahead at what appeared to be nothing in particular. She was still and quiet, her gloved hands clasped together on her lap. Sam stared at her and her line of vision and could not decipher what she could be looking at.

This was the same ritual for Andy over the last few weeks. She would finish her shift, and make her way to the same bench, at the same time and sit. Sometimes she would sit for a few hours and other times, when completely lost in her thoughts she could be there all night. She knew it wasn't safe to do this, but being there, brought her a sense of calmness that had only been matched when she was with Sam. Her thoughts had been running rampant, but as of late the frequency was verging on being constant. She opened her clenched fist and stared at the bottle of pills in her hand, they had become part of the ritual too. They would have been easy to take, mask the real problem that was going on, and there were times when she just wanted to swallow the whole bottle, simply to quiet the chatter in her mind. The one thing she did learn over the years is the importance of getting to the root of the problem in order to survive. She let out a deep sigh, causing a puff of hot air to escape her mouth and float into the cold winter night.

_Margaret McNally entered the room, not bothering to remove her hat and coat. She had no intention of being here any longer than needed. She walked across the linoleum floor, her heels making a squeaking sound with every step she took until she reached the bed which had been placed in the far corner, next to the window. In the bed lay Andy, a shell of her former self, staring vacantly ahead. The hospital gown she wore was far too big for her ever decreasing form and it was knotted several times in order to keep it secure. She sat down next to her granddaughter, offering no warm greeting, or pleasantries. They both remained silent for a while, watching the view of the world outside._

_"Seven Weeks," Margaret said, finally breaking the silence and turned to face her._

_Andy sat up, and stared back at her with wide brown eyes, that seemed as if they belonged to a person more than twice her age._

_"It's been long enough Andy," she said seriously. "You shouldn't be here, when you have a loving family at home waiting for you."_

_Margaret looked at Andy knowingly, allowing her to process what she had said before she continued speaking._

_"What about your friends, school, me, your dad?" she asked. "He's lost without you and blaming himself, should he be blaming himself?" she questioned, gently trying to coax an answer out of her. They still didn't know what happened that fateful day. Andy was hysterical when Margaret received the telephone call and practically catatonic by the time she and Tommy arrived at the hospital a short while later. That was just over seven weeks ago. Tommy had told her to give Andy time, but Margaret didn't do time where her family was concerned. She was done with the waiting silently, listening to medics who didn't understand the complexities of this young girl. They said Andy could leave once she felt ready, and as far as she was concerned, that time was now. Margaret had waited long enough, and it was time to sort things out the McNally way._

_"A problem shared is a problem halved," she said, with her usual quirkiness. Andy swallowed hard and shook her head, as if trying to dislodge some sickening image from her mind._

_"Promise you won't tell dad?" she whispered._

_"Well I can't promise that until you tell me what it is. You never know, it might be the right thing to do," she said. Margaret was never one to sugar coat things or pretend, straight to the point every time._

_"But Gran..." she pleaded._

_"Don't but Gran me Andy," she said a little more firmly. "You and your dad are the two most precious things in the world to me. You know I would never do anything to hurt either of you. I need you to tell me what happened, right now. No granddaughter of mine, should be here, in a place like this," she added waving her hands around the room with a mild disdain._

_"McNally's stick together, right?"_

_Andy nodded, desperately holding on to those infamous words, which had become tarnished as of late._

_"What happens in the McNally household, stays in the McNally household right?" she said holding Andy by the chin with her free hand._

_"Whatever problems with have...what do we do Andy, what do we do?" urging her to finish her statement; which Andy had heard so many times, and had always worked out well if the truth be told._

_"We work it out together," Andy said quietly, completing the sentence._

_"That's right my darling, we work it out together," Margaret confirmed, holding her tight against her bosom._

_"I saw her..."_

_"Saw who?"_

_"Sophia."_

_Andy buried her head deeper into her grandmother's chest, taking in the scent of Lavender. She felt Margaret freeze momentarily, and pull her in closer and tighter. She felt safe in Margaret's arms, and returned her grip with equal fervor. _

_"She was with a man, and they were holding hands," her voice was cracking, as Margaret rubbed her hand up and down her back trying to sooth her._

_"Oh. Did you speak?" she asked trying to remain calm, and leave her tone neutral. She called it right years ago, when she said that woman was a rat, although now there were a few more expletives she would have liked to use._

_"No, not... not really," Andy stammered._

_"Well, it's normally a yes or a no, Andy," Margaret replied, sensing there was more to come._

_"Well... I ran up to her, and grabbed her hand. She turned to look at me and she pulled her hand away. She was pregnant," Andy revealed, letting out a breath._

_"Are you sure?" Maggie closed her eyes, willing it not to be so._

_"Yes Gran, she was definitely pregnant."_

_"What else happened? Don't leave anything out."_

_"Nothing happened. The man asked her if she knew me, and she said….she said she'd never seen me before in her life, and she walked away. Just like that Gran, she turned and walked away."_

_Margaret kept her in a tight embrace, mentally going over what she had just heard._

_"Anything else?" she asked._

_"No," Andy replied, shaking her head. "I don't remember anything after that, all I remember was waking up here at the hospital," she said quietly._

_"I think we should go home now," Margaret said rising to her feet. She stood fixing the pins in her hat, and smoothing down her coat. "There's nothing here for you."_

_Andy got up and starting packing her things, with no protest. "Gran?"_

_"Yes," she said, putting the last of Andy's belongings into a bag._

_"Do we have to tell Dad?" she said looking worried._

_"No, sweetheart we don't," she said. "Let's just keep this between the two of us for now," smiling her brightest smile, which she normally reserved for dire situations._

_"So what do we do about….her," she said, not being able to use the correct terminology._

_"We do nothing," Margaret said holding her hand tightly. "We have each other and that's all we need," she said simply._

Sam remained crouched behind a row of bushes, looking for some clue to piece together this bizarre behaviour. After three hours of no activity, and severe leg cramp, he was at a loss for what to do. It was getting late, and he did not want to leave Andy sitting there exposed to the elements, let alone the possibility of attack. Reluctantly, Sam decided to go home, hoping that Andy would be safe and would come home soon.

Neither Sam or Andy noticed the black SUV pulled up some several hundred metres away. Its passenger watched her with interest, as he wanted to be sure it was her. His sources had told him for the best part of three weeks, a young brunette had been sitting outside 143 Kensington Gardens. He wound down the window of the car slightly, allowing the smoke from his cigar to escape the confines of his seat, as well as giving him a better view.

"The next time she's here call me," he said to the driver gruffly, when he saw Andy rise to leave.

"Yes Mr Hill," the driver responded.

Winding up his window, the driver turned on the ignition, indicated and drove off into the night.

* * *

><p>Andy returned home, shortly after Sam feeling tired. He was sitting watching TV, and although he appeared casual, she knew he was waiting for her. It gave her a warm feeling inside, and she felt her heart sing.<p>

"Hey," he said watching her slip off her boots and slowly begin to take off her coat. Andy noticed his shoes had a little snow on it, and assumed he gone out at some point too.

"Did you go out?" she enquired.

"No. Why?" he asked, feeling somewhat on edge.

"Your shoes, they're all wet that's all," she said pulling her coat off and hanging it up.

"Oh, right. Just to put some garbage out," he lied. She seemed to believe him, but he was uncomfortable not telling her the truth.

"What you watching?" she asked trying to find some normality in her night.

"Nothing much."

Andy, lifted her hand in a tea cup motion, signaling to Sam if he wanted something to drink and he shook his head. She walked over to the kitchen, subconsciously squeezing his shoulder as she walked past. Andy poured herself a cup of coffee, the one thing she still enjoyed and had managed to drink in abundance. She stood leaning against the counter thinking about her moms and dads, and the implications of it all. It shouldn't be important now at her stage in life, but it was, and she supposed it always would be. Christine, always said it was good to know what was important and what was not so important, that it helped with the recovery process. Although, she took most of her advice with a pinch of salt, every so often she would say things that helped, and this was one of them.

Andy could hear Sam laughing at something on the television, and she smiled at the comfort that sound immediately brought her. She wanted to reach out to him and really talk to him but she was frightened. Andy didn't want her thoughts to scare him away, but she knew she needed him as she was walking on a tight rope that would very soon snap. She finished her second cup of coffee and sat down next to Sam.

_Margaret held up Andy's coat, and she slipped her arms in one at a time, and turned her around and began to do up the buttons. She needed to keep herself busy, before she said something about Sophia, that would be very unforgiving and upset things further. Andy looked up at her, with sadness in her eyes, always concerned about others before herself, which Margaret knew would be her undoing one day. _

_"Listen to me Andy McNally," she said looking at her directly in the eye. "Life is what you make it, so don't let this hold you back. You're growing up so fast, and you'll be married one day with children of your own." _

_Andy blushed, as she knew how babies were made._

_"Don't ever let things get this bad again. Ever. This thing with your mother, was the tip of the iceberg, but you were already heading down a slippery slope for a quite a while."_

_Margaret didn't wait for validation, she didn't need it. She was right about most things, and could see how her daughter in law's departure had effected both Tommy and Andy. Personally she was indifferent._

_"One day your dad and I will both be gone, and you need to allow someone in to be your support. Don't bottle things up, find that person or people you can trust and talk to them, tell them what's on your mind. Don't let it get to this again, never let it get to this. Promise me Andy, never let it get to this. Do you understand what I am saying?" Margaret pleaded, gently shaking her._

_Andy nodded._

_"Do you?" she questioned again._

_"Yes Gran, I do. I promise."_

_"Good," she said, her features returning soft, and friendly. "Let's go home and surprise your dad. He'll be so pleased to see you; we can make him something nice for him to eat."_

"How you feeling?" Sam asked, noting her silence since she sat down.

"Lousy. But I'll get better," she said consciously leaning into him. Sam put his arm across the back of the settee, and slowly dropped his hand around her shoulders. She didn't flinch or pull away, so he relaxed, leaning into her too.

"You wanna talk?" he asked.

"A little…can we just talk a little?" she asked hesitantly, her heart rate accelerating slightly.

"Sure. Sure we can do that," he sounded relieved, and turned down the volume on the television.

"So, I um…" she didn't know where to begin.

"Do want me to start?" he asked, sensing her uncertainty.

Andy nodded.

"Okay," he said, "what's happened to all your money?"

"Can we start with something else please?" she begged, looking completely overwhelmed.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." He knew he should have started with something a bit less threatening. He paused thinking carefully, before he spoke again.

"You haven't been yourself lately, and you have been looking ill."

Taking a deep breath, Andy responded. "I'm been having trouble sleeping, I lie in bed all night thinking, and by the time I do fall asleep, it's time to wake up. I've been surviving on one or two hours sleep most nights and then all off a sudden it will catch up with me, and I will crash out and sleep all day."

Sam nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I haven't eaten properly in weeks, I just don't feel to although I do feel hungry most of the time. When I do eat, I usually feel sick, so I don't eat, and if I do it's usually something like coffee. It's like a cycle, I need to eat to get better, but if I eat I feel ill. I have probably lost weight because of it, and I seem to always have a headache. I've started noticing my hair is falling out too." She stopped to take a deep breath, and collect her thoughts. She hadn't planned on telling him like this.

"It could be something serious Andy, you need to see a doctor," Sam urged. "I've been worried about you for a while now. You've barely eaten anything since you've been here."

"I have seen somebody, a specialist when the symptoms first started. I almost hoped it was something serious, even deadly. At least then I could hold my head high and not feel ashamed. But I wasn't so lucky, and I didn't need her to tell me what I already knew."

Sam turned to face her, confused by what she had just said.

"So they told you what was wrong?"

"I'm your classic text book depressed patient. You know the kind you read about in medical books? I was diagnosed as being clinically depressed with high levels of stress and anxiety. It was the same when Sophia left."

Sam looked at her, racking his memory to think who Sophia was.

"My mom," Andy interjected, after seeing his muddled expression. "When she left, I felt exactly the same way and had exactly the same symptoms. I wouldn't talk to no one, not even my dad or grandmother. I virtually stopped eating and I kept pushing people away, until things got really bad."

"Do you know why you are depressed now?" Sam asked, turning into police mode, piecing together this new information.

"Yeah I do," Andy nodded. "My life."

"Well that's a loaded answer," Sam replied."'My life is loaded Sam," she said.

"Throw me a bone here McNally. Try and be a bit more specific." He was desperately trying to read between the lines, and determine what exactly she was trying to say.

"To put it in a nutshell, my life sucks. I feel like I shouldn't have been born. I'm hoping all of this is just some sort of bad dream, and very soon I'll wake up," she laughed dryly.

"Hey Andy...don't say things like that," Sam said shaking his head, and brushing her cheek with his hand.

"It's true. If I didn't have you, Traci or my dad, they would have institutionalised me by now. It's not like it's the first time, maybe it won't be the last."

She saw the realisation on his face of what she had said, and felt her mind spin. Andy closed her eyes, waiting for him to reject her, just like most people she'd cared for already had. She wondered what his excuse would be, or whether he'd be like both of her mothers who didn't even think an explanation was needed for their hasty exits from her life. At least with her first dad, he had the luxury of being shot dead in his defence. She couldn't help thinking, if he were still alive he'd find a reason to leave her too. When Sam didn't respond she continued talking, attempting to finish this chapter from her life.

"I was twelve years old when I started showing signs of depression, which got progressively worse. By the time I was thirteen years old I'd had a complete nervous breakdown."

Sam's eyes opened wide, unable to school his surprise. Andy chewed her bottom lip, deliberating whether to continue.

"I was admitted to an Adolescence Psychiatric Unit for a while." She was breathing hard then, a mixture of exhilaration, shame and fear at having admitted something this big.

She looked straight in the eyes, willing him to look away to hide his disgust, to prove her right. Sam stayed focussed, looking at her directly, and gently brushed her cheek with his hand once more. This time his hand remained.

"That must have been a difficult time for you" was all he said, removing his hand and rubbing it up and down her arm. Although the action was meant to sooth her, it was partly for him too.

"This is the part, where you make your excuses and leave," she said resolutely, blinking back the tears she had so valiantly kept at bay.

"I'm still here Andy. It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to make me walk away from you. Besides in case you hadn't noticed this is my house," he smirked. "So what else you got?" he challenged.

Andy let out the breath she'd been holding, searching his eyes for some hesitation, but all she saw were his warm eyes staring back at her looking completely unfazed. Feeling totally uninhibited, she tilted her head, leaned forward and kissed Sam softly on the lips. She lingered ever so slightly, allowing their noses to touch before pulling away. That brief kiss gave her the resolve to continue talking.

"The reason I never went on a second date with Luke was because he made an off-handed comment about the mentally ill. Something about most of homicide cases being caused by nut jobs. When I confronted him, he said they're too much trouble on society, and they should be locked up and the key thrown away. Whether he realised it or not, he was talking about me, and I knew there and then I couldn't be with somebody like that. I need to be with someone that understands me, or at least tries to, which is why I am telling you this. You are the first person outside of the McNally household I have told this too Sam. I just wanted you to know, what you could be letting yourself into, if we took this further. There's always the possibility it could happen again. This is one of the reasons I couldn't commit to you before when you asked."

Andy was mentally exhausted, not expecting to have said as much as she did, but it was enough for now, and she was sure it was the right thing to do.

"I don't want to talk no more," Andy said as she leant back into him, and held him tight.

She was trembling and Sam took the throw from the back of the settee and covered her with it. Sam was torn, she had opened up to him on a completely different level, and she seemed ready to let him in.

"Not such a great catch now, am I?" she added as an afterthought, placing her hand on his chest and Sam covered it with his own.

"Well McNally, you're still pretty awesome to me," he laughed.

"Sam, listen," Andy said, sitting up, her mood turning serious. "If we do this, I need for us to go really slow because to be honest I am absolutely scared to death of it all going wrong. I know I deserve to be happy and so do you. There's a lot of things we still need to find out about each other and discuss, but I guess that will take time."

"Like I said before Andy, I have all the time in the world."

"Just promise me you won't lie to me. I can forgive a lot of things but not lies," she said looking up at him. Sam kissed her gently on her forehead and held her close so she wouldn't see the tears forming in his own eyes.

He was filled with so much emotion, and did not know quite happened to change their relationship at that moment in time, but he knew she trusted him. She trusted him to tell him something about her past. She didn't want any more lies, only honesty. He had to be honest with her too, and he wished he had stayed home tonight, if he knew things would be as they were now. He didn't know how she would take his confession.

"Andy?" Sam said.

"Hmmm," she replied in her state of relief and happiness.

"There's something I need to tell you."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN- Apologies for not updating sooner. Work, meetings, deadlines and demanding managers had halted my progress. At the moment I am living on very little sleep, have drank gallons of tea and have probably eaten most of my body weight in Double Chocolate Chip Cookies over the last two weeks in order to keep functioning. Needless to say, there is a strong possibility that I may have lost my mind! **

**I had always intended this chapter to be a little bit romantic and funny, but when you're tired your perception becomes distorted, and this is the result. **Please review and let me know what you think, and just how mad I have become. This chapter is longer than the others, and it seemed the more cookies I ate, the more I wrote. **I have changed the rating to M due to the language and sexual content, but I am just being over cautious as it is pretty tame in all honesty.**

**Special thanks to DCJ for being my personal guide on all things Canadian, you have become a very valuable resource in my quest for authenticity. **

**Finally, this chapter is dedicated to all the 'Aubergines' out there. We will keep fighting for worldwide recognition...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Diets, Dating and Vegetables.<strong>

"Sam?" Andy said nervously.

"Andy."

"What is it you need to tell me?" his silence was making her anxious.

Sam hesitated momentarily, trying to form some coherent thoughts to explain what he had done tonight.

"It was too much wasn't it? You've changed your mind?" Andy said hurriedly. She didn't wait for his response, pulling away abruptly and moving towards the edge of the settee.

Sam could see her defences going up, and knew he had to get his head together quickly.

"I'm sorry," she continued, her shoulders slumped and looking defeated. "I shouldn't have presumed that you'd still be interested, after all it has been a few weeks and maybe you've met someone new." The pain she felt in her heart realising this possibility was indescribable and she kept her head hung low.

"Andy, come here," Sam said softly patting the seat next to him, gesturing for her to come closer. "Nothing has changed," he said shaking his head, yet still keeping his gaze firmly on her. "I still feel the same way."

"So what is it then?" The desperation in her voice was not lost to either of them.

"Just that I'm happy you're finally letting me in," he responded.

Sam looked at the vulnerability in her eyes, and he simply couldn't do it. He justified his response by promising never to lie to her again as of that very moment.

Andy smiled brightly and lay back in his arms. She sighed when Sam placed the throw back over them once more and held him tight. Sam was concerned at how easily he had managed to lie to her twice that night, and fleetingly wondered if it were some sort of bad omen. It wasn't strictly a lie, and he was glad she was letting him in, but it wasn't what he was supposed to have said. Sam had convinced himself that now was not the right time, and he would tell Andy the truth some time soon. The reality was there would never be a right time, and he was scared of losing her. He knew Andy well enough to know she would be upset by his actions. She was ruled by her emotions, which could only exacerbate the situation further. Sam had never wanted or needed a person this badly before, and it frightened him.

"You wanna hang out tomorrow?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood and his conscience.

"What do you have in mind?" she questioned expectantly, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. Andy was looking forward to spending time with him.

"Well, we definitely need to do some grocery shopping and I really should service the truck. I thought maybe we could also have lunch. Just normal stuff, unless you've got other plans."

"Normal stuff," she uttered, "sounds interesting. You might have to show me how normal works though, it's not exactly my forte."

"And you think it's mine?" Sam scoffed.

"Mmmm. You've got a point there," she said, and they both began to laugh, causing any remaining anxiety to disappear.

"Besides, being normal is so overrated anyway. I much prefer living on the edge," Sam added.

"So we'll be living on the edge tomorrow then?"

"Definitely," Sam said, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"And how are we gonna do that?"

"We won't make a grocery list. Yeah, we'll shop without a list," he said nodding his head to confirm his idea. "You think you can handle that McNally, shopping without rules?"

"I'll try, but it will be hard," she giggled, rolling her eyes at his goofiness.

They both fell in to a comfortable silence, entwined in each other's arms and very soon Andy fell asleep. Sam stayed awake a while longer, just listening to the sound of breaths as she slept, and contemplated the days events. He knew he'd regret sleeping there in the morning when every muscle in his body would ache, but right now everything was perfect and he wanted to hold onto that moment a little bit longer. He needed Andy to hold onto it too, so when things got tough she would remember how good they were together both on a professional and personal level. Before tonight, he always thought sex should always form part of any good night with a female he was attracted to. He didn't really have any female friends before Andy, whom he hadn't slept with, or at the very least had been intimate with. The fact that they had not done anything, other than that one shy kiss, took him completely by surprise, and the fact that it was enough to sate him completely blew him away. His only other close female friend was Noelle, and they had got partially naked and made out one drunken night at the academy, which only went to reinforce his theory. It was something which they both had never spoken about since, but it had somehow given her the licence to tell him whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Well that was the excuse he kept telling himself; but she did that anyway and probably always would. Noelle was one of very few people he would listen too, bar Oliver, Frank and Jerry to a certain degree. But it was hard to take Jerry too seriously when he spent more money than Traci on hair products, clothes and visits to the beauty parlor.

Sam could feel Andy falling into a deeper sleep as her head fell limp. Somehow she had managed to lift both her legs and curl them under her, leaning closer into his body.

"Hey Andy," Sam whispered. His eyes were now becoming heavy and were starting to droop.

"Yes Sam?" she said keeping her eyes closed.

"There's nothing unusual about you. You are one of the normalest people I know; you've just had a few rough breaks."

"Normalest. Is that even a word?" she mocked, still in her sleep induced state.

"It is in my dictionary," Sam retorted with his usual self-confidence.

"Well, in that case then it must be," she replied sarcastically, smiling to herself and drifted back to sleep.

Sam's last lucid thought before he too succumbed to slumbar was whether Sarah would accept his hanging out with Andy as an official first date. Sam knew he should probably call Sarah, as he was completely out of his depth, and she would know what to say. He was pretty sure that just being completely head over heels in love with Andy would not be enough of a shield when the shit hit the proverbial fan.

* * *

><p>As predicted, the following morning Sam awoke with a loud groan, every single muscle was screaming for mercy. Somehow during the night they had both managed to shift position, and were now lying rather haphazardly on the settee. Andy's hands were gripping his shirt, and had one leg between his own. They were facing one another and Sam had his arms wrapped around her slender frame. Her head lay against his chest, and he could feel her warm breaths through his shirt. Looking down at her face, she seemed relaxed and peaceful, whilst Sam felt he had just done ten rounds in a boxing ring, and still lost. He managed to untangle himself from their embrace without waking her, and walked awkwardly into the kitchen to make some coffee. He braced himself against the counter, stretching his muscles in a last ditched attempt to feel human again. Once he felt his back provide a satisfying click, Sam opened the fridge, deciding to make breakfast. Pulling out the bacon, eggs and sausages, he began to cook what he considered to be a hearty breakfast to start the day.<p>

By the time Andy awoke, Sam had already showered and breakfast was ready. Andy smiled and greeted him with a tender kiss, which she blushed and pulled away from when he tried to deepen it. She still couldn't believe she was kissing Sam, her former TO, partner, friend and something else. It made the butterflies in her stomach flutter furiously whenever their lips touched, and she only held back as a way of reigning in the intensity of her feelings. Sam brushed her hair away from her face and placed a soft kiss on her temple.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Great!" Andy exclaimed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Andy had felt calm, relaxed and content in his arms that night and for the first time in a long time she had a restful sleep free from dreams and memories of the past.

They sat and had breakfast and Andy tried her hardest to eat all he had piled on her plate, but before she had even taken her second mouthful, she could feel her stomach protesting. She ignored it, eating several more mouthfuls before she admitted defeat. Unfortunately most of her effort found itself in the toilet bowl, when she threw it all back up.

"I'm sorry Sam," she said guiltily, "I know you made this specially for me."

"It's okay sweetheart," Sam said as he gently held her hair away from her face and rubbed her back soothingly, every time she retched.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, unsure of how to make things better. Her skin was pale and clammy, and he was pretty sure a couple of Advil would not do the trick.

"Just talk to me," Andy groaned, grimacing every time her stomach went into spasms.

They stayed sitting on the bathroom floor talking for some time. Sam spoke mostly and Andy listened, smiling every so often when he said something funny. Eventually the nausea subsided, and Andy got ready to go shopping.

The trip around the grocery store was interesting to say the least. Sam instantly regretted not making a list, as he was forgetting most of what he came in to buy. It was probably confounded by the fact that he was shopping with Andy, and the disbelief that she was putting items in 'their' shopping cart.

"You wish you'd made a list now right?" Andy teased, when she saw he was struggling to remember what was needed.

"No," Sam said unconvincingly. "We don't need to be confined to a list; we're free spirits, rule breakers, non-conformists, pioneers….."

Andy looked at him doubtfully, and shook her head.

"What?" he said, stopping mid-way through his speech.

"Nothing," she said smiling, continuing to peruse the fresh vegetables on display.

"Okay, okay," he conceded, "maybe a list would have helped."

They both started to laugh again, and Andy held his hand squeezing it gently. Sam looked down at their linked hands and sighed, embarassed that such a small gesture would leave him feeling so satisfied. They remained that way throughout their time shopping, only releasing one another's grip when they wandered off to get an item. Once they placed the item in the cart, they would resume with the hand holding. Sam had never shopped with a woman before, and he was in awe of some of the items Andy picked up. He was a pretty good cook for a self proclaimed bachelor, and he knew Andy could cook although most of the time they were together they ate take-out. She selected herbs and spices that he had heard of but had never used before. Coriander, Garam Masala, Turmeric, Star Anise, Bay Leaves and Sage to name a few. Their cart was starting to resemble an international food fare.

"What are you gonna do with that?" Sam enquired, staring at the bulbous dark purple vegetable in her hands.

"Cook it," she said rolling her eyes, and shaking her head.

"Am I gonna need a hambulance afterwards?" he asked, already laughing at his own joke.

Andy raised an eyebrow not amused, but soon broke into one of her dazzling smiles and laughed, which made Sam smile back with gusto.

"I was thinking maybe in a few days time, or when I can manage to keep some food down, I'll cook you this fantastic Aubergine dish, my Gran used to make."

"Auber- what?"

"Sorry Eggplant. They call it Aubergine in Ireland, and lots of other countries in Europe. There's quite a few vegetables my Gran had different names for," she rambled on, pointing out some of the vegetables on display. "Anyway..." she said shaking her head to re-focuss the discussion, "I think you'll like it."

"Is there meat involved in this recipe?" Sam asked suspiciously eyeing the vegetable.

"Don't look at it like that Sam," Andy giggled.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to slap some handcuffs on it and arrest it!"

"Well, there's got to be some law on something being so purple," he commented.

"Yes, there is definitely meat involved," she replied disregarding his archaic statement.

"Then I'll love it!" he said feigning relief.

They continued walking around the store in the same fashion, and for a task so mundane, that Sam would normally rush to complete, he enjoyed himself. Although he suspected it was probably more to do with the company rather than the ambience of the store. They strolled around, talking and dropping items in their cart as they went down every aisle. By the time they got to the checkout the cart was heaving.

"I can put some things back," Andy said suddenly conscious that she was not paying for any of it.

"Don't be silly McNally," Sam said placing the goods by the checkout. "I can't wait to see what wonderful delights you will be cooking. I especially can't wait to see what you do with this Auber-thing," he said pointing at his purple nemesis, sitting smugly at the top of the other items.

"Aubergine Sam. You pronounce it O-bur-jeen," she explained again, saying each syllable slowly. "It is a real word."

"Sure, Sure," he said nodding. "Always learning something new with you McNally," he said sarcastically.

Andy tutted, pulled a face and began packing up their many items. Sam paused, taking the opportunity to look at her long and hard, noting the way she chatted so easily with the lady at the check-out. 'Aubergine' he said quietly to himself, and stored it away under the new category of miscellaneous in that filing cabinet he had mentally constructed in his head, concerned with all things Andy McNally.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, they both sat on the settee, accustomed to each others company, and totally unaware of each others personal space. Their relationship had transformed into something different within the last twenty four hours to something still undefined. They were watching a movie, some sort of romantic comedy which Andy had chosen. Sam rolled his eyes, and made a few sarcastic comments but secretly it was good, but mostly he enjoyed having Andy close by. It was easy to forget when they were alone, but Sam knew they would really have to talk at some point, and both were reluctant to address the many issues in their so-called relationship. None of their friends knew she was staying him, and somehow that was a silent agreement they had with one another.<p>

Andy began to fidget, trying to make herself more comfortable, and eventually decided on taking a cushion, placing it behind her head and resting her legs on Sam's lap. Sam looked down and smiled appreciating the view of her long legs, as she tended to favor jeans and trousers more. This motion had caused her skirt to ride up her bare thigh, exposing much more flesh than he was used to seeing. Sam resisted the urge to grab and kiss Andy, and was content just to be with her. He drew lazy circles on her ankles with his thumb, deciding at that very moment this was the most erotic encounter he had spent with a woman without actually sleeping with her. By the look on Andy's face she seemed to be enjoying it too. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, and several strands had fallen loose around her face. Her eyes closed every time he rubbed her ankle bone, and she flexed her toes in approval. After much persuading, he had managed to convince her to go for a facial and pedicure that afternoon, whilst the truck was being serviced, it was his treat. He would have paid the cost a thousand times over to see the big grin that was on her face when she returned showing him the frosty pink nail polish on her toes. They also had lunch; well Andy ate two bites of Sam's sandwich and an apple. He was glad to see her eat something solid, even if he spent to next few hours rubbing her stomach to help the nausea and pain go away. Sam could think of worse things to do with his spare time. This was how they ended up on the settee watching some movie, about God knows what and starring God knows who. Its whole plot evaporated from his mind when Andy placed her legs on his lap. Sam raised her leg placing a kiss on her inner ankle and Andy smiled shyly, closing her eyes again, revelling in his touch. Sam kissed her ankle once more sucking on its protruding bone which caused Andy to gasp. Sam continued to slowly kiss up the length of her leg until he reached her thigh, where he hovered biting its flesh hungrily, and soothing it with his tongue. The movie was long since forgotten, and both were lost in the sensations of the moment. Andy seemed to lose all her senses, with only touch remaining, and every touch by Sam caused electric charges to pass through her body. She had never experienced such intense feelings with a man before, and every touch turned her on. With an amazing demonstration of flexibility, strength, and a temporary abandonment of apprehension, Andy raised her leg higher placing the sole of her foot on Sam's shoulder and pulled herself forwards towards him. Their lips met, and Sam placed his hand around her neck pulling her as close to his body as possible. Andy ran her hands roughly through his hair, kissing him hard. Sam moaned into her open mouth, placing kisses along her neck and collar bone.

"Andy," Sam said in a raspy voice, trying to control the urge to take her right there and then. She smelt so good, and his nose was assaulted by the smell of her skin, which smelt of vanilla and some sort of musk.

Before she could respond, a loud knocking on the door, interrupted their moment, and they pulled apart at the sudden onslaught of noise.

"Hey Sammy open up man!" Jerry said, continuing to knock.

"It's poker night, I need to win some money," Oliver added.

"Shit!" Sam said jumping up from the settee, using his hands to comb through his tousled hair. "I forgot it's my turn to host poker night."

Andy opened her eyes wide in panic and began picking up any of her items lying around. She quickly grabbed her coat from its hook and her pink blackberry from the coffee table. She almost tripped causing her to stub her toe on the leg of the settee, and she let out a cry. Hopping on one foot, and taking one last look around she ran up the stairs to her bedroom and firmly closed its door. They hadn't told anybody she was staying there, and if Jerry saw her he would tell Traci and then it would be a thousand and one questions that she wasn't ready to answer.

When Sam was sure, Andy was out of site, he went to open the door. Jerry and Oliver made their way in, arms filled several bottles of beer and Pizzas.

"Sammy boy, nice of you to finally answer," Oliver said. "If I didn't know better I'd say you had a lady here," tipping his head towards the television.

"Sleepless in Seattle? I thought you were more of a bloods and guts guy" Jerry added, making his way to the kitchen.

"Very funny, I was just upstairs," he explained, and quickly picked up the extra glass from the coffee table and placed it in the sink.

"Upstairs eh?" Oliver said wiggling his eyebrows.

"You're an ass," he threw back.

"Yeah," Jerry added, "besides, he only has eyes for a certain brown haired rookie," making kissing noises.

"How old are you Jerry? Ten?" Sam said pulling back the settee to make way for the table.

"Just saying man..."

"Well don't," he snorted.

"Technically, she isn't a rookie no more" Oliver chipped in. "On the other hand, you my friend are the one who started with Nash when she was still at rookie status."

"Shut Up Olly" Jerry said annoyed.

"Just here to point out the facts my brother."

The door was knocked again, and Frank rushed in, putting a halt to their teasing much to Sam's relief.

"Sorry guys," he said, "Did I miss much?"

"Not really, just the usual taunting of Sammy and his inability to get laid," Jerry laughed.

Frank raised his eyebrows, wondering if he should ask for more details and against his better judgement he did.

"Who's the lucky lady?" he asked.

"McNally," Oliver said finishing the remainder of the discarded sandwich on the coffee table.

"Hmmm," was all Frank said. The conversation was heading into dangerous territories which he knew were best avoided.

"Come on Frank!" Jerry said, "tell him. Either man up and ask her out, or find another object for his desire. That blond nurse from St Michael's is always asking about him. The one who always wears her bra several cup sizes to small, so everything squishes together," he said, demonstrating on his own chest. "What's her name again? Melissa…Mindy…"

"Monica," Oliver said, finishing the glass of orange juice too. "She's not really Sammy's type. Too pushy," he said knowingly.

Frank looked at Sam, who had placed a pack of cards on the table and returned from the kitchen with several glasses and a bottle of scotch.

"Are we playing or what?" he asked, totally ignoring their conversation.

He would have loved to have told them just where Andy was at that precise moment, and that he had indeed kissed her. He knew they would want more details, and right now he had no real answers. They still hadn't defined their relationship, and there was no way he'd add fuel to the fire by discussing his relationship with Andy, least of all to Jerry.

* * *

><p>Andy sat in the bed listening to the raucous the men were making downstairs, amazed at the frankness of their discussions. She desperately wanted a drink, and was annoyed at leaving hers on the coffee table in a bid to escape unnoticed. Her face was still flushed from her brief encounter with Sam, and her heart rate was only just beginning to return to normal. She smiled to herself not quite believing how forward she was with him. She could hear parts of their conversation, and was surprised at some of the things they were talking about. Men would be men she supposed, and she and Traci had been known to get graphic at times, but still, it was a little strange hearing the thing her best friends boyfriend was saying. Thinking about Traci, she sent her a quick text to say hi, and started to respond to her emails which had gone ignored for weeks. She had totally zoned out of their conversation until she heard her name mentioned.<p>

"I mean don't get me wrong," Jerry said, pouring himself his second large scotch. "McNally is pretty hot, but I get the feeling she may be batting for the other team, if you know what I mean."

Sam nearly choked on his beer and Frank groaned placing his head in his hand. Oliver shook his head and chuckled, and began dealing out the cards. Jerry had the subtlety of a sledge hammer and the strangest logic in solving things. How he made detective, they would never know. They always teased him that he spent more time having facials and massages, rather than doing any real police work.

"So you think McNally is a lesbian?" Oliver asked, and chuckled some more.

"Yes," Jerry said, "I have a sound theory. The last time she went on a date with Luke, and that was like ages ago. He said that when he tried to kiss her, she pulled away."

"Maybe, he just wasn't her type," Oliver said logically.

"Or he had bad breath," Sam added sarcastically.

"Okay, maybe. But, when was the last time you ever saw her go out with somebody. I know at least two officers from 27 that have asked her out and a detective from 17. He said that when he asked her McNally looked at him as if he had two heads and told him no, that he wasn't her type. Maybe her type of man isn't really a man... but a woman." He sat back in his chair, proud of his synopsis.

"Maybe, dating is the last thing on her mind right now," Frank said, after remaining silent throughout the whole conversation. He pulled a slice of pizza out of its box, trying to appear casual in what he just said. Sam looked over at him, knowing there was much more to that statement than he was letting on, but remained silent. He didn't want to talk about Andy, especially as she was only upstairs, hopefully not hearing the bullshit Jerry was spouting.

"Can we just play, without your incessant wittering?" Sam asked. "We are gonna have to start calling you Jennifer if you keep this up" Sam continued, and the others laughed.

Jerry took the jibes in good faith, and laughed along with the others. They had known each other for years, and had a strong friendship which had stood the test of time. They were all very different, but in some ways that's what made their brotherhood work. They had seen each other through divorces, marriages and babies, and were close, in a totally masculine way of course. Jerry liked to dress well, went regularly to a male grooming salon and had his suits custom made by Italian tailors. The guys teased him mercilessly about his feminine side, especially when he tried to educate them on the merits of body waxing, and manicures. He knew it was a battle he was unlikely to win, but the detective in him knew Sam had a lady very recently in his house. He noted two glasses on the coffee table when he had first entered, one which Sam removed rather quickly, there was a chick movie playing on the television and he seemed to have forgotten it was poker night. The only time Sam wasn't around or up for poker night was when he was undercover. Very small inconclusive details, but he knew something was amiss. When he went to get some ice from the freezer, for his Scotch, there was more damning evidence against Sam. Jerry noticed several cans of diet coke in the fridge, and array of root vegetables and the final piece of evidence was salad….in a bag. Jerry shook his head in disbelief when he first saw it, and took another sip from his glass. The other vegetables he could disregard. Almost. But salad in a bag did not scream testosterone or bad ass cop with an attitude, in fact quite the opposite. Salad in a bag represented diets, complaints about arms being too flabby, accusations of you not finding her attractive anymore and the need for you to pay for expensive liposuction. Traci did salad in a bag; his ex wife did salad in a bag (and liposuction) and he was sure Noelle did salad in a bag. Real men (and he was a real man) did not do salad, let alone salad in a bag. There was a definite female presence in the Swarek household, and he just needed to find out who she was, so he could shake her hands for getting the McNally drug out of Sam Swarek's system.

"So Sammy," Jerry said returning to the table. "Any gossip?"

"Nah, man," he replied shuffling the deck of cards, to start a new game.

"You seeing anybody new?" He finished his remaining scotch in one swig, and immediately refilled the glass.

"Haven't we had this discussion already Jerry?" Sam asked, somewhat agitated.

"Leave the man alone," Frank said, still shaking his head in disbelief at his obtuseness.

"What?" Jerry said raising his hands in surrender. "Can't a friend ask another friend how things are?"

They continued playing cards, and Jerry continued to lose much to his annoyance. Sam's smug face as he won again for the third time, caused Jerry to use a little distraction technique in an attempt to win some of his money back. He was also slightly drunk, which made him talk even more, than he normally did.

"What's with all the vegetables in the fridge man?" he asked.

"Just trying to eat healthy," Sam said casually.

"It's a lot of vegetables Sammy…" he slurred.

"I'm trying to be very healthy," Sam replied.

Jerry slugged the remaining Scotch that was in his glass and tried to focus on the cards in his hands, which was proving difficult as he was swaying slightly.

"Traci eats a lot of vegetables. But Leo isn't so keen," he said. "She has to hide it in his food when she cooks."

"Thanks for that News Flash Jennifer," Oliver said. "You know I actually come to poker night, to get away from the female chatter of the Shaw household. I should have stayed at home with my wife and daughters if I wanted to talk cooking tips and dating."

"Do you hide vegetables in your food when you cook Sammy?" Sam looked at Jerry amazed at the absurdity of his question, and Oliver sniggered.

"Nah Jerry, I don't hide my vegetables."

"What you gonna do with that big purple vegetable?" Jerry asked, laughing to himself.

"Cook it," Sam said, remembering Andy's earlier response.

"Is it nice? Can I taste it?" he asked. "Do you know why do they call it an Eggplant? It doesn't look much like an egg to me,2 he said laughing once more.

Frank picked up the Scotch bottle, and placed it under the table out of view.

"I think you've had enough to drink buddy," he said.

"He's gonna feel it in the morning, that's for sure," Oliver commented, happily snagging the last slice of pizza.

"Do you know it some parts of the world they call it Aubergine?" Jerry added, puffing his chest out, proud of his little display of knowledge. "I helped Leo with his school project, looking at fruit and vegetables from around the world. Not all bananas are yellow...some have red skins too," he added.

Sam simply raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I'm not a complete Neanderthal you know."

"I know Sammy, that's why I love you man." Jerry staggered to his feet, and lay on the settee. He fell asleep almost instantaneously, mumbling about vegetables and salad.

The men continued playing a good while longer, before they said their goodbyes and made their way to leave, hoisting Jerry up with one arm slung over each of their shoulders.

Sam tidied up and put the remaining bottles of beer in the fridge. Opening its door, he stared at all the vegetables, although the purple one stood out alone from all the others. Although slightly inebriated himself, he found himself staring at it, almost willing it to look away first. He moved a carton of juice in front of it, blocking it from his field of view, but its rounded base still peeped out at the sides mocking him. Sam growled in annoyance, stacking cans of coke and bottles around it, creating some sort of fortress. He closed the fridge and began to load the dishwasher before heading up to sleep.

Sam knocked on Andy's door, but she had already fallen asleep when he entered, a small peaceful smile on her face. He repositioned the covers which had fallen off her and brushed her hair away from her face. She looked happy and he wanted to keep it that way.

Sighing, Sam shook his head slightly and tip-toed out of her room. Making his way back down stairs to the kitchen, he opened the fridge, relented and deconstructed the surrounding fortress. This vegetable with all it's purple pride, had come to symbolise Andy, and as crazy as it sounded he needed to treat it the way he treated her. He placed it next to the bagged salad so it wouldn't get bruised and closed the fridge again once more.

Finally climbing back into his bed, and setting his alarm Sam lay down waiting for sleep to claim him. He was tired, but looking forward to tomorrow and hopefully a future that was filled with love, laughter, Andy and the occasional Aubergine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- This is not the last time we will be hearing from the Aubergine...<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**AN- Here is the next installment, please try to find some time and review- it would be nice to reach 100 (think of it as an early Christmas present!) The next chapter is almost complete too which I hope to upload on Friday-if I get enough reviews:) . It will definitely answer a few more questions, but probably create a few more too. As always...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Equilibrium.<strong>

Andy awoke to a gentle tapping on her bedroom door.

"Andy are you awake?" she heard Sam ask softly.

She rolled on to her back and yawned loudly, stretching her limbs in a feline manner. Andy couldn't believe her days off were over already, and although she was supposed to have rested, she still felt tired. Sam knocked again, a little louder than before.

"Come in," she croaked.

Sam entered the room, stood at the edge of her bed, and handed her a cup of coffee.

"What time is it?" she asked, shuffling further in, and lifting up the covers to make more room for him. Sam slid in under the bed sheets gratefully welcoming the warmth.

"6:30 am," Sam said, casually taking the cup of coffee from her hands and taking a sip.

"So how was poker night?"

"Good."

"Did you win?"

"Don't I Always?" he said smugly.

Andy rolled her eyes, and took the cup of coffee back.

"You look like you have a hangover," she stated, staring at his appearance.

"No, not really but I could do with a few more hours sleep," he confessed, yawning loudly.

Andy nodded, and swallowed a mouthful of the coffee, feeling one step closer to fully waking up. She handed the cup back to Sam who took a large gulp and relaxed back into the pillow next to her. His hair was in disarray, and his stubble had started to form across his jaw, making him look strangely sexier than usual. She was tempted to run her tongue along it but refrained, trying to remain some level of decorum after her wanton behaviour the night before.

"Was Jerry drunk?" she continued.

"Yep."

"Does he always talk so much?"

"Yes he does."

"Is he always so loud?"

"Yes he is."

"So it had nothing to do with the alcohol?"

"Not really, it just makes him talk more."

"Hmmm," she said taking the cup back out of his hands, and finishing the remaining liquid.

"You shouldn't take too much to heart of what Jerry says," Sam added, having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

"You mean about me being a lesbian?" she smirked.

Sam paused for a short time before he answering, and Andy rested her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah… stuff like that."

"I'm not offended Sam. It's just funny that he assumes because I've been single for some time, that I must be gay. If we are applying that same principle then I suppose that means he thinks you're gay too," she said laughing when she saw his expression.

"It is too early for that kind of conversation McNally," Sam said joining in the laughter. "Get yourself out of bed; we leave at 7:45 am sharp!"

"Okay," she groaned, but both made no effort to move. She placed the now empty cup on the bedside cabinet, and curled into Sam.

"Ten more minutes McNally," he sighed, closing his eyes, draping an arm over her shoulder, and pulling her in closer.

"Okay, ten more minutes," she repeated, already falling back asleep.

Forty-five minutes later she awoke, and Andy turned to Sam, nudging him with her elbow.

"What time it McNally?"

"Time we got up and move our butts… like really quickly," she said, sitting up and sliding out of the bed.

"McNally," Sam grumbled.

"Don't worry Sam; I leave later than this most days."

"And your point being what? You're always late," he said staring at her pointedly.

Andy looked at him sheepishly, and smiled.

"Like I said Sam, time to get up and move our butts. Quick."

They arrived at the barn with a few minutes to spare before the start of their shift. They had to miss out on any more coffee in a bid to make up for lost time, but Sam was surprisingly chirpy despite of this. They pulled into the parking lot, almost at the same time as Luke, who annoyingly parked next to them.

"Swarek," he said, focussing his gaze on Andy, as she lifted her bag on out the truck.

"Callaghan," Sam responded tightly, not in the least bit happy at the way Luke was raking his eyes over her body.

Andy walked ahead of them, not wanting to acknowledge Luke's presence unless she had to. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time she walked across the parking lot and entered the building. She turned behind briefly and nodded at Sam, before she entering the ladies locker room.

* * *

><p>Sam and Andy were partnered together, and were assigned to traffic patrol. Sam groaned loudly, showing his obvious irritation.<p>

"McNally what did you do to piss Frank off?" he growled, "I hate traffic patrol."

"Stop being a grump Sam," she said poking him with her finger.

"A grump?" he huffed.

"Yes a grump," she reiterated.

She didn't mind it so much this time, although she was still tired, she had much more energy, which was down to Sam's cooking. He had fed her constantly over the last few days, which she found comforting and she loved this side of him. She felt special to be one of the few to really see a side of him that he worked so hard to keep hidden. Probably with the exception of his sister Sarah and Oliver she doubted anyone would believe how gentle, kind and thoughtful he could really be. She hadn't been able to eat much though, and could see Sam's disappointment when she felt sick or never finished a meal, that several weeks ago she would have wolfed down fairly easily. She was also sleeping much better, and felt comforted by the fact the Sam was just a room or two away. Although Andy was still over-thinking, it was much less and was from the comfort of a bed, or settee and not a cold bench on the other side of town. It had been a few days since she had last visited Kensington Gardens, feeling content in Sam's presence instead, and as easily as it became a necessary habit, it had now become an addiction that she was willing to quit.

It was a quiet day, and after issuing a couple of warnings and one fine, Andy was beginning to get frustrated.

"Can you believe that last guy?" she cried.

"What about him?" Sam moaned, distressed that only three hours had passed since the start of their shift.

"You know lying like that. I really hate liars," she said again. "He looked me in the eye and told me he didn't realise he was speeding," she tutted, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh yeah, and not forgetting that he thinks his speedometer is faulty. He must think I am a complete idiot!"

"Well, what did you want him to say McNally?" Sam asked feeling slightly on edge, as if the universe was silently reminding him of his recent indiscretions.

"Well, if he just said he was sorry, I would have just given him a warning seeing as it was his first contravention. But to blatantly lie like that…well!" She said indignantly.

Sam remained silent, her rant didn't require further ammunition. As suspected she talked herself into submission, and started talking about something entirely different shortly afterwards.

Sam and Andy returned to the barn ready to complete their paperwork before the end of their shift. They sat at their desks, and Andy went to get them both something warm to drink. She was just filling the second cup with coffee, and was about to add some milk and sugar to her own when Luke appeared out of his office.

"Hello Andy," he said smiling. He stood very close to her… too close.

"Detective Callaghan," she said firmly, admonishing herself for ever thinking his smile was attractive.

"How are things?"

"Things are great," she said, furiously stirring the sugar in her coffee. She decided to forgo the milk, in order to get away from him as soon as possible.

"So I was thinking, it's been a while, and we should try and catch up. What do you say? Me, you, a bottle of wine and take a trip to my fishing cabin in Simco. It's beautiful there this time of year."

"Listen detective, I'm kinda seeing someone right now, and I don't think he would appreciate me going to fishing cabins with random people," she said, hoping it would be enough to get him away from her.

"Well, I'm hardly random Andy, we used to date," he interjected, disregarding her comments.

"No Luke. We went out to dinner once... quite some time back."

Luke Callaghan, always got want he wanted, and had never been refused by a woman before. The thrill was in the chase, and he would wear Andy down eventually. He kept smiling at her, leaning a little closer into her personal space, hoping to seduce her with his charm and expensive cologne.

"Well what does he do? Do I know him? You can't be too careful these days. I can run his details through the system, make sure he's got no priors," he offered, keeping his smile permanently on his face. _And __check __out __my __competition, __he __silently __thought __to __himself._

"That won't be necessary, thank-you," she said curtly, and made her way to leave, not turning back once.

She returned back to the desk, and handed Sam his cup of coffee.

"You alright?" he asked, noticing a change in her demeanor.

"Luke," she said quietly, sitting on the edge of the desk, and scrunching her face.

"Did he say something?" he asked rubbing his hand up and down her thigh unconsciously.

Noelle watched their interaction from the corner of her eye and knew something had changed between these two. She was happy if they were happy, but after what Frank had said to her, she was beginning to have her doubts.

"He asked me to go to his fishing cabin with him. Can you believe the nerve of the guy?"

"What did you say to him?" Sam asked, trying to keep a control on his emotions. Guys like Luke always got their girl, and guys like Sam... well, let's just say they weren't always so lucky.

"That I was seeing somebody," she said coyly.

Sam both smiled and sighed when he heard that.

"Oh... anybody I know?" he asked playfully.

"Just some guy, he's pretty awesome I must admit, a really great kisser, and I kinda like him a lot."

They smiled at one another, Andy blushing slightly. Noelle narrowed her eyes, making a mental note to talk to Sam later, and warn him, before things got out of hand. When Andy saw Chris and Gail appear she jumped of the desk and made her way to her own.

"Andy!" Chris said smiling at her brightly.

"Chris," she said wrapping her arms around him and gave a big hug. Sam was a little jealous he couldn't do that to her in public, but wasn't threatened by Chris as he was by Luke.

"We've missed you, haven't we Gail?" he said, holding her at arms length so he could look at her properly.

Gail did not say anything, and just smiled stiffly.

"I've definitely missed you Chris," Andy said, purposely making no reference to his bitch of a girlfriend, or whatever it is she was calling herself these days.

"So how you feeling?" Gail said coolly. 'The last time I saw you were coughing up your lungs.'

"I feel much better thank-you," she said keeping her attention on Chris.

"Well, feeling better and looking better are two different things. I suppose one out of two isn't too bad, right?"

And there it was….in a space of thirty seconds Gail had managed to both annoy and insult Andy. That had to be a new personal best for her.

"Anyway Chris, I've got paperwork to do," Andy said, giving Gail the most filthiest look she could muster.

"Okay Andy, try and pop in to the Penny this week, it's not the same without you."

Andy smiled, and made her way back to her desk.

* * *

><p>Shift had finally ended and Sam stood against the wall outside the ladies locker room. One by one he saw his female colleagues leave, and eventually Andy emerged.<p>

"Hey," he said huskily.

"Hey."

"I was wondering if you need a ride home?" Sam asked, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Well, I wouldn't say no," she said smiling, handing him her bag.

They made their way to his truck, and listened to the radio on the short journey back to his house.

"I'm cooking tonight!" Andy announced, as they turned into his road.

"Well you won't get any protests from me," Sam said, not really having a clue what to do with some if the items they had recently brought. "What's on the menu?"

"Home made Steak and Mushroom pie."

"Home made huh?"

"Yes. Home made pastry and everything," she said nodding her head once in confirmation.

"Sounds great," Sam said, already feeling his taste buds giggle in delight.

"Tastes even better," Andy said cheekily, as she made her way out of the now parked vehicle.

They both entered the house, slipping off their shoes and coats. Andy made her way to the kitchen, pulling out flour, butter and several other ingredients.

"I'm not a big baker," he said, noticing her rummaging about in the cupboards, "so I may not have all the things you need."

"It's okay," Andy said as she rolled up her sleeves, and ran her hands under the tap, "I'll improvise."

Sam grabbed a beer, and watched her with great interest and admiration. She appeared to use no measuring instruments and seemed to be doing everything by eye. In very little time she had made the pastry dough, which she was rolling out, using a wine bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.

"Do you need any help?" Sam asked, slipping his hands around her waist, and kissing the back of her neck gently.

"You could slice the mushrooms, onions, a small amount of the other vegetables, and add it to the meat in the bowl," Andy said gesturing to the items on the opposite counter.

She continued rolling out the dough and placed it into a pie dish. "Oh, but not the Aubergine," she added as an afterthought, "that's for another day…."

Sam began chopping the vegetables, whilst they chatted and teased one another.

"Hey, how's Tommy?" he asked.

"Fine."

"Is he still, you know... not drinking?"

"Yep."

"That's good. You must be pleased."

"Yes I am."

Instantly Sam could feel the light-hearted mood change to something much heavier. He watched Andy, noting her shoulders tense, and she chewed her bottom lip in a way she always did when thinking.

_"Come on dad," Andy said for the third time, throwing out various items from his fridge into the dustbin, she sniffed one identifiable item in a container and discarded it too. _

_"Stop dragging your feet. The bus leaves in an hour, and I need to get back in time for work tonight."_

_She entered Tommy's bedroom, watching her dad unfold and refold the same shirt several times. It was a nervous habit of his, a repetitive motion of any kind of activity; although he typically favoured moving crockery from one cupboard to the other. Walking closer to his form, she placed her hand over his stopping any further motion._

_"Let me pack dad," she said softly._

_She guided him to the chair by his bed, and tipped out the contents of his suitcase and began to reassemble his clothes once more. Both were silent, irrelevant chatter wasn't necessary as they both knew how important today was._

_"Oh before I forget," she said running back to the living room and returning with large paper bag, "I brought you several new shirts, socks and plenty of underwear."_

_Tommy smiled at her, she reminded him of his mother in so many little ways._

_"You can never have too much underwear," they both said in unison in a voice very similar to Margaret, and began to laugh._

_"It will be alright dad," she said in a more serious tone, "we'll be alright."_

"Andy," Sam said for the third time, raising his voice several notches to gain her attention.

"Sorry Sam, did you say something?"

"I asked if you had told your dad that you're staying here."

"No," she said, her eyes fixed on rolling out a second piece of dough.

"Okay. It's just I know you two are close, and I thought maybe…"

"No, I haven't," she said taking the bowl from him and transferring its contents into the pie dish.

Sam watched her once more as she placed another piece of pastry dough on the top, encasing the contents, and pinching its edges with her fingers, to seal it.

"Hey, Andy, are you alright?" he asked concerned, moving closer towards her and holding her by her arms. He brushed her hair away from her face, glad she didn't pull away, although she was shaking slightly. She leaned back into him squeezing his arm once, causing the flour on her hands to fall onto his sweater. Sam remained silent watching, he knew her mind was processing something, and if he waited she would talk.

_"What if I let you down Andy? What if I fail again?"_

_"You won't dad," she said, concentrating on packing his clothing, not daring to contemplate the possibility of him slipping of the wagon. "Besides seven months off the bottle is a pretty big deal don't you think? You've never gone this long before. We don't want to undo all your hard work, and if this is where you need to be for a while, it's a small sacrifice to pay."_

_"But, what if I do?"_

_It was times like this she wished her grandmother were still here. She would know what to do, although she already suspected what she would say. 'Tough Love, Andy, Tough Love.'_

_"Do you want to fail dad?" she said looking at him, "because I certainly don't want you to. Only you can control that, not me," she used a tone that was very firm, but still respecting him for who he was._

_"What about the cost? It's a lot of money Andy. It's not fair that you have to help out like this, I don't want to be a burden."_

_"So we should let a thing like cost get in the way of your health? We'll manage somehow; I don't want you to concern yourself about that dad, let me worry about that. I'll come back later to tidy up, and sort through all the mail. Just focus on getting better and stronger, leave the rest to me."_

_Tommy sat watching her for a few moments, packing his belongings with such speed and efficiency, and he sighed amazed at how strong she'd become, over the years._

_"You know I'm so proud of you kiddo. You've done so well, despite having a father like me."_

_"Oh dad," she said hugging him tight, "don't you get it? I've done so well because of having a father like you. Don't be scared, i'm never leaving you; you don't have to do this alone. We're in this together, McNally's stick together."_

_Tommy looked at her, his eyes slightly misty, giving her weak smile._

_"What did I do to deserve a daughter like you?" he said shaking his head._

_"Ha! Is that a trick question?" she mocked, closing his suitcase and locking it._

_"Andy... You know I love you, don't you?"_

_"I should hope so dad," she said smiling in a way she never did with anybody else, "because I love you too."_

_Her smile and words, seemed to reach a remote island hidden somewhere deep inside Tommy, as he suddenly felt braver and stronger. He took her outstretched hand, still tiny in his large palm and gripped it tightly._

_"Let's go dad...buses wait for no one!"_

"The money Sam, I used it all to pay for my dad's treatment."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, still maintaining a firm grip on her.

"Not really," she said shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, there isn't much to say and I don't feel bad about it, not one little bit. It's just a bit embarrassing, that everybody knows about his problem, and I suppose I'm just trying to protect him from further gossip."

"You really are full of surprises McNally, although I can't say I'd expect any different. You like to help everybody and anybody; it's one of the things that make you special."

"He's not just anybody Sam…."

"I know, I know," he said, realising the inappropriateness of his words. The last person that said something derogatory about Tommy, sported a black eye for several weeks, and Andy was nicknamed bruiser for a while. Frank had put her on desk duty for two weeks as punishment, but that was as far as it went. The officer concerned transferred to Manitoba after being shunned by most of the division, and the topic was never discussed again. Despite it all, Tommy was well respected, and there were several high ranking officers that would have had plenty to say if Andy were suspended.

She pulled away from him suddenly, realising some time had passed.

"We need to get this pie in the oven if you want to eat tonight," she said, the mood returning lighter again.

"I think we should talk about this a little more," Sam said.

"Alright Sam, but let's get dinner on the go first, okay?"

"Okay," he said, and smiled, thankful that there was very little resistance.

* * *

><p>Dinner was wonderful, and Sam and Andy lay on the settee completely stuffed. It was a monumental day as Andy had managed to keep it all down, and only had a slight stomach ache. Admittedly she only had a sliver of pie, and a few vegetables, but she was pleased, and Sam was pleased. Andy lay with her head on his lap, completely at ease, whilst his fingers ran through the length of her hair. It didn't seem that difficult to fathom, when she was completely at ease with him as friends so it was no surprise that this 'something' should be any different.<p>

"So," Andy said rather candidly, "Are we going to talk about my dad?"

"Do you want to?" he asked.

"If you want to, it's good to talk right?" she said, repeating a phrase Sam often used.

"So what do you want to know?" she said, making herself more comfortable.

"Whatever, you want to tell me."

"Well… as you know my dad has been under a local programme for the last seven months, and he was doing well. The thing was he didn't feel ready for what the next step was, and I wasn't ready for him to fail."

She licked her lips, watching something and nothing in the distance, while she collected her thoughts.

"It's a private facility about two hours away from there, and you should see it Sam,' she said, her eyes wide in awe. "You name it, they offer it. Their mission is to attack the problem from all different angles, and some of the therapies they offer seemed a little bizarre to me, but they seem to be working. They have branches in seventeen countries, and have had amazing results. It was recommended by his therapist, so we went to check it out a few months back."

"How much does it cost Andy? Doesn't sound like a place like that is too cheap."

"It doesn't matter...the price didn't matter. Besides you get what you pay for right?2

"But how much?"

"Three thousand dollars a month."

She said it so calmly, as if she had just said three hundred dollars, not an actual sum which was ten times the amount.

"Andy," his voice took a serious tone, and gripped her hair briefly. "That is a hell of a lot of money, especially on your salary."

"It's a small price to pay."

He was trying to choose his words carefully, as she was so malleable right now, and her openness was refreshing. A wrong word could shut it all down, and undo the progress they had both made.

"You've got no savings; you've sold your things, your struggling to pay your own bills. I think maybe Tommy's expecting too much from you."

"He never asked me to do it Sam, I wanted to. Besides he had some savings too, and his pension. Together we've managed to pay for the first two months."

"And how long will he be there?"

"As long as he needs to be."

"But Andy..." he was completely flummoxed by her response.

"No Sam. Things can be replaced, but people can't, trust me on that. I didn't go into this lightly, I've thought about it long and hard."

Sam remained silent, transfixed by what she was saying, but scared for her all the same.

"Listen, he's been ill for a while now, and I don't mean the alcohol. Years of abuse have taken its toll on his organs, and they're showing signs of failing. His kidneys are the worse, and if he doesn't pull his socks up he'll be waiting for a transplant. How long would that take given his age and history? It's not like I could donate him a kidney if things got worse."

"Why not? Are you sick too?" he asked, full of worry.

"He's not my biological dad Sam." She looked him directly in the eyes when she said it, no longer embarrassed to tell him.

Sam's hand stilled in her hair.

"Did your mom have an affair?" Sam asked, trying to think of the most plausible explanation for what he was hearing.

"No. Here's the thing...your gonna love this," she said in a tone heavily layered with bitterness, "she's not my biological mother either. I was adopted."

Sam tried to hide his surprise, but would be the first to admit he did a shoddy job. He was surprised, speechless, and could only manage to say "Oh." A one syllable response to something so huge. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for that, so he remained silent, rather than say something stupid.

"I'd give him anything he needs Sam. A kidney, the shirt off my back if that's what it takes. I'd give him my heart if it would make him well again."

His movements in her hair resumed again, finally taking in what she was saying.

"I think you kinda need your heart Andy," he said reflectively, "and although it's pretty big, you've only got one of those."

"I'd still give it to him..." and Sam winced at her wry remark.

He knew Andy loved Tommy, but it was only then he really understood the implications of what she was saying, and it unsettled him and stirred something in him that wasn't particularly pleasant.

"Don't say things like that Andy, you shouldn't say things like that." He could actually feel the bile rising in his throat, and the only word he could use to describe his emotion was fear. Yes, definitely fear.

"I love him Sam, and he loves me unconditionally. You probably wouldn't understand what it means to be loved, because you've never not been loved. Despite what people think about him, myself included when things got rough, I always knew he loved me. If I lose him..." she was blinking back tears. "I'll have nobody, and then I'm unlovable again, just like when he first took me in."

She let a few tears fall, not bothering to wipe it away.

"My dad saved me, and now it's my turn to try to save him."

She sat up watching the emotions pass on his face, and caressed his cheek gently.

"Too much talking?" she whispered.

Sam shook his head, cupped her face, and pressed his forehead against hers. They remained like that for some time, and an invisible band was wrapping itself tighter around the two of them, binding them closer together. Sam tilted his head and kissed her slowly and deeply. There was no words in his vocabulary that could begin to describe his feelings. She returned his kiss with passion.

"Don't be upset Sam, I'm not. I'm still working through a lot of things, but when my dad calls me and tells me what he did in rehab that day, I feel happy and proud. It makes me feel good, to know I am giving something back to him."

He stared at her some more, his chest feeling tight with worry, although he understood her motives.

"I know it sounds crazy, sending him away, selling everything I own to pay for only two months treatment. But when you love somebody you do anything. We've lost so much my dad and I, but we've never lost each other."

"What happens in months three and beyond Andy, how are you going to pay?" Sam asked, his thoughts returning to some sort of normality.

"Where There's A Will There's A Way; Onwards And Upwards; One Step At a Time or my personal favourite... For Queen and Country," she said reeling of a list of the sayings she'd heard a multitude of times growing up.

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Sam said staring at her in complete bewilderment.

"Translated from McNally to English, it means I don't have a clue, but we'll figure it out," she laughed out loud. There was a twinkle in her eye when she said that, and a fire that was burning bright.

"How can you laugh Andy?"

"Because you are here with me, and I feel invincible when I'm around you," she declared unreservedly.

She lent forward and kissed him again, trying to silently convey how quickly her feelings for him had deepened, and was now completely out of her control. For once she wasn't scared, she actually began to believe things may be in her favour. It was long overdue.

"Andy...hold me," Sam said holding her so tight, she almost couldn't breathe.

"Are you okay Sam?" she asked, her heart racing, suddenly aware of what she had said.

"Yes, I just need to hold you." He realised how needy he sounded, but the fear he was feeling was overpowering.

"It's all about finding the right balance Sam, and its taken me a long time to realise it. Worry about the things that are important and forget the rest."

"Sounds like good advice," he said quietly, sinking further into her embrace.

"I come up with good strategies when I'm not starving myself and feeling depressed,2 she said sarcastically.

She ran her hands up and down Sam's back, he looked dazed and almost childlike.

"Do you want some ice-cream?" she asked.

"Is there any Pistachio left?"

"I should think so, you're the only one that eats it," Andy said pulling a face.

"You don't have to get it," Sam said getting up from the settee.

"But I want to Sam, let me please. You look a bit unsettled, and I'm just worried about you."

"You don't need to worry."

"Well I do because you're important, and like I said, worry about the things that are important."

She left Sam alone for a while, knowing the frankness of her words had unsettled him. She found the ice cream and placed a few scoops in a bowl.

"When my dad calls tomorrow, I'll let him know I'm staying here for while."

"You don't have too," he said, putting a spoon of ice cream into his mouth.

"Listen Sam, if it's important to you, then it important to me."

He ate a few more spoonfuls of icecream before he spoke again.

"Andy, seriously, how are you going to find more money? No offence but you look pretty tapped out of cash."

"I don't know... Maybe I'll get a job at Jilly's, they're always looking for staff," she smiled. "Didn't you and Oliver go there last year, and Zoe got upset?"

"Yeah, was stuck with him for a week, before she forgave him. He almost ate me out of house and home."

"So Jilly's, is always an option," she said winking at him.

"I'd pay good money to see you covered in glitter shaking your tassels at me," Sam said suggestively.

"See!" Andy cried, "My first customer already."

Sam laughed, and shook his head.

"We'll think of something Andy," he said with sincerity.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, positive thinking! We'll make an Honorary McNally out if you yet Sam." Andy smiled extra brightly, it was infectious and he found himself smiling back.

"Well I'm honoured, to become a member of this exclusive establishment," he said in his best regal voice.

"You better believe it," she said, placing the bowl of icecream on the coffee table, and kissing him hard.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN-Thank you all for the reviews and story alerts. This is my last chapter before Christmas, and it's a long one! But before you all drink your Eggnogs, and eat far too much turkey, please take a few minutes to review, and motivate me for the next chapter. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays. As always...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: In The Spotlight.<strong>

"Do you think we should go to the Penny tonight?" Sam asked.

"Why?" Andy said kissing him slowly.

It had been over a week since poker night, and every evening they spent at home together. It had been great, Andy did a lot of the cooking and she was a fantastic cook. That evening she had made pork chops, sautéed potatoes and steamed cabbage, following by a home-made apple pie for dessert. They had fallen into a comfortable routine. Sam didn't really need or want to go to the Penny, but after speaking to Sarah, she emphasised the importance of doing things as a couple, but also socialising with friends. That she said in her infinite wisdom, was a test as to whether a relationship could withstand the observations, and ultimately criticisms of others.

Andy seemed more relaxed over the last several days, and had long since stopped holding back from kissing him. She unashamedly slid her tongue into his mouth and ran her fingers through his hair. Sam held her tight against him and kissed her back, biting her bottom lip gently. The whole thing seemed surreal to him, being able to touch Andy whenever he pleased, of course with the exception of work, where things remained completely platonic and professional. They hadn't gone beyond kissing, as they were taking things slow, but things were progressing nicely, and surprisingly much faster than he imagined. Sam noted Andy had started using his shower instead of her own, claiming it had better lighting, which apparently was important when she exfoliated, or words to that effect. He started to become accustomed to seeing her shower gel, shampoo and conditioner sitting amongst his things. He never commented about it, in fact he liked it.

"The thing is Andy," Sam said in between kisses, "I haven't been to the Penny since you moved in, and I almost forgot Poker night again yesterday if Oliver hadn't reminded me."

"I haven't been to the Penny for weeks, what's the big deal?" she asked, pausing to look at him.

"Don't you miss your friends?" he asked.

Andy pulled away from him.

"Is this your way of saying we need to do our own thing? Because right now I can't afford to go to the Penny, you know that."

"I'll pay," Sam offered.

"You pay for everything as it is Sam, and I'm not too pleased about that. Go if you want, but I'll just stay in."

"You're upset," he stated, not quite sure what he had said wrong.

"I'm not upset."

"So what's wrong then?"

"Nothing."

Andy got up from the settee and made her way to the kitchen. She began to wash the few dishes that were in the sink. Sam followed her, sensing something was amiss.

"Dinner was lovely by the way," he said hoping to get a smile.

Andy remained silent and held out a dish for him to dry.

"I'm not a user Sam," she said defensively.

"I never said you were Andy."

"I never said you did."

"Okay, so we're agreed."

She handed him another dish, which he began to dry, not having a clue how to approach the problem, when he didn't actually quite know what it was.

2I know what people will think. Poor Andy down on her luck and using Sam. I can hear them now, wondering what I must be doing to stay here rent free. I've seen the looks I've been getting when we come into work together."

"I've given you a rides in my truck loads of times Andy, you're imagining it. Besides, nobody knows your here."

"Gail knows," she said miserably.

"You told Peck?"

"No, she followed me into the dry cleaners yesterday. I went to collect our uniforms; she said she wanted to put something in too and came with me. I couldn't just turn around and leave so I went in as usual, but Mrs Medina was there."

Sam nodded, waiting for her to continue. Mrs Medina was the only person they had told that they were together, as she had been hinting towards the fact for as long as they'd been partners.

"So I go in, give her the ticket, and Mrs Medina starts asking about you. How are you, where have you been, you know the usual. I said you were fine, and she says you should be with a pretty thing like me on your arm."

Sam brushed her hair out of her face. "It's really not a big deal Andy."

"No? Then she asked if I had managed to try out the recipe she gave me for Paella, and whether you liked it."

Sam wasn't too concerned who knew he and Andy were together. He'd shout it from the roof tops, or make an announcement during the next hockey game if he could, but knew she wasn't ready for that sort of fanfare.

"Then Gail says, so you are picking up Swarek's dry cleaning now, and cooking for him? Interesting..."

"So that's why you don't want to go to the Penny?"

"Yes. She's probably told everybody by now. You know I don't like people talking about me Sam. Besides I really can't afford to go, I need to pay for my dad's treatment next month, and I'm still short."

"Come to the Penny Andy, we'll sit with our own friends," he said reassuringly. "Let's arrange a time to meet by the truck and then we'll go home. Forget about Gail, she's just speculating, she has no idea we are living together. Okay?"

"Okay," she sighed, finding it hard to say no when he spoke to her in that husky, soft voice.

"Good," he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

* * *

><p>They drove into the Penny parking lot a short while later. Andy jumped out and went inside first, while Sam went to park the truck, allowing there to be some time before his own entrance. Despite her earlier protests, Andy was genuinely happy to see her friends there and gave Traci a big hug, when she saw her, Chris and Gail sitting at their usual table.<p>

"Oh my God, Andy!" Traci cried, "Where have you been?"

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that, and a touch of dry-cleaning," Gail replied snidely.

Traci threw Gail a puzzled look, and gave Andy a kiss, leaving an imprint of lipstick on her cheek.

"I missed you too Trace," she laughed, wiping the lipstick away.

"How's your dad doing?" Chris asked.

"Great Chris," she replied, not really wanting to say much more with Gail around.

"So what's the gossip?" she asked, trying to ignore the intense look Gail was throwing in her direction.

"Dov!" Traci shouted across the bar, waving her arms.

Dov came running towards them, and after hi-fiving Andy, he regaled all the gossip from the past week that had them laughing, just like old times.

By the time Sam entered, Oliver and Jerry were playing pool, and Noelle sat on a stool close by watching them play whilst drinking a beer. He made his way over and slid onto the stool next to her. He glanced briefly at Andy, her head on Chris's shoulder smiling at something Dov was saying, in his usual excitable manner. He noted Gail staring at him intensely and he stared back with equal measure, before tipping his head in acknowledgement.

Noelle looked over at him, before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, holding his gaze several seconds longer than was deemed acceptable.

"What?" he asked, at her sudden display of affection.

"Nothing," she said, her voice suggesting otherwise. "Just nice to have the old gang together again. I must be missing your dazzling sense of humour."

"Well, I know I haven't been here in a while, but you're looking at me like I've got my toupee on back to front."

"Well your hairline is starting to recede."

"Noelle," Sam growled.

She swang her legs around to face the bar, and Sam followed suit.

"What's the deal with you and McNally?" she said in a low voice, so the others would not hear.

"I don't know what you mean," he said calmly, nabbing the beer bottle from her hand, and taking a large gulp.

2I'm going to let that slide," she said giving him one of her infamous looks, which had been known to make grown men cry, but just made Sam scowl at her instead.

"Come on Noelle, a bit of tongue was all it took before, you know... to get you to loosen up."

He knew he was playing with fire by going there. Noelle could very easily kick his butt, if re-training was anything to go by, and she was in a good mood that day. Now she just looked pissed at him.

"You're a jerk Swarek, you know that don't you? And if memory serves me correct you came on to me."

"I was drunk, and it was half price Tequilas all night," he said as some sort of explanation.

"You're such a liar, you were on Scotch all night, and I was the one on Tequilas. After a couple dozen of those you started to remind me of John Travolta, and I've always had a thing for him."

They both started laughing, not believing they were having this conversation, and she hit Sam so hard, he almost toppled off his stool. Sam gave her a menacing stare which proved futile, as she looked at him and rolled her eyes, unmoved by his attempted display of antagonism.

"Listen Sam, I'm not here to judge, I mean Frank and I are….. close," she said bringing her voice down to almost a whisper. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise at her disclosure.

"You and Frank are.."

"Listen we're not here to talk about me, we need to talk about Andy," she said cutting him of abruptly, and avoid any further discussion about her private life.

Sam signalled to the bartender for two scotches, and waited for Noelle to continue talking.

"The other night me and Frank were talking..."

Sam raised his eyebrows at her suggestively, and smirked.

"Talking Sam, just talking," she left out the fact it was after some bedroom action.

"Anyway he mentioned Andy in passing. Promise me this stays between us Sam? He shouldn't have said what he did, but he let his guard down and wanted some advice. He's still new to this sergeant thing, and still second guesses himself at times."

"Advice about what?" Sam was trying to be calm, but he was beginning to feel anxious. He took one of the glasses of Scotch the bartender left on the counter, and slid the other towards Noelle.

She looked over her shoulder, clearly worried others would hear. Disregarding her beer, she took a long and slow drink from her glass.

"Frank said he's worried about her, that she seems pre-occupied with something."

Sam took a slow sip, watching Andy's reflection in the bar mirrors. Sure he knew there were things they hadn't discussed, but he was pretty sure they were past the worst of it. He was sure he had a good idea of what could be in her mind after the recent discussions, so was not too concerned about what Noelle was saying. Sam felt himself relaxing more, not feeling the need to respond.

"I mean, I must admit she's been looking a lot livelier this last week or so, no doubt due to whatever it is that you're not admitting to."

God, if this was anybody else he would have walked away by now, but it was Noelle and she'd probably drag him back by the scruff of his neck, for daring to walk away from her when she was speaking.

"Andy came to see him, early one morning a few weeks ago..." Sam's mind went back to the day he saw her in Frank's office, it almost seemed a distant memory.

"Frank never said what it was about, but that evening he received a call from Boyko, telling him in no uncertain terms to keep her on light duties. And when he said it was time he popped into 15 for a long overdue visit, Frank was worried that he was really screwing up as a sergeant."

"Does she know this?" Sam asked, knowing how Andy hated to be singled out.

"I'm not sure."

"Frank feels responsible that he didn't notice something was wrong, even though she came to him first."

"She's okay Noelle, you and Frank don't need to worry, I'm keeping an eye on her," Sam said, touched but not surprised by her concern. Despite her tough persona, she was fiercely protective of those that she cared about.

"Maybe, and I'm just saying maybe as there is obviously nothing going on between you two guys...but maybe being in a relationship isn't what she needs right now. Maybe she just needs a friend."

Sam finished his Scotch in one large gulp, and signalled to the bartender for another.

"I can't go back to just being her friend Noelle. Being with her just feels so right, like we just fit. Besides, I don't think she just wants to be my friend either, we're too far in for that."

Now it was her turn to look surprised.

"It's not like that, we are taking things really slow. But, I don't think I could stand it if things went back to the way they were before. The day that happens I'll call Boyd and go back to working undercover for good."

"You're really serious about her aren't you?"

Sam nodded, fearing his voice would let him down if he spoke the true extent of his feelings.

"Your secret's safe with me Sam," she whispered, as she saw Oliver and Jerry return to their stools beside them.

"Yours too Noelle," he said, before turning his attention towards them, making fun of Jerry and his 'Pink' shirt and equally feminine coloured tie.

Noelle was never one to drag a point, and as simply as their conversation started, it was over.

* * *

><p>"So spill," Traci said, as soon as Gail and Chris made their way to leave. Dov was chatting to a female on the other side of the bar, so it was just the two if them remaining.<p>

"About what Trace?" Andy asked.

"Love, work, life... I don't know!" she cried. "What's happening in the life of Andy McNally? It's been weeks since we had a good chat."

"Sorry to disappoint, all pretty dull," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"Really?" Traci sounded disappointed.

"Yes really."

"You're not drinking tonight?" she asked as she refilled her own glass from the pitcher of beer remaining.

"No," she said shaking her head.

"So how's Swarek these days?"

"Well he's just over there Traci, if you want to ask," she replied sarcastically.

"Jerry thinks he's got a girlfriend," she giggled as if it was the most ridiculous thing she heard. "Is it true?"

Andy huffed, deciding not to tell her best friend exactly what she thought of her boyfriends theories.

"Sam doesn't exactly discuss his love life with me," she stated taking a sip of her Pepsi.

"Don't you feel at least a bit curious? I can't even imagine what type of woman he'd go for. I've been telling you forever to make a move on him before somebody else snaps him up, but it's still not too late."

"Why would I make a move on him Traci? We are just good friends."

"Good friends don't renovate your apartment free of charge, good friends don't drive out of their way to bring you to work most mornings, good friends don't buy you expensive coffees with funny names and good friends certainly don't give a certain blond haired detective evil looks everytime he comes near you. Do you want me to continue? I've got several more where that came from," she said with certainty.

"Good friends do all those things Traci, if they are your friend. You would do all that for me, and I would do all that for you."

"Yeah...well you and Sam could be more than good friends," Traci said, realising she had lost her hook in the argument, as she would do all those things for Andy. "Besides, I know you like him," saying that last part so quickly, that Andy almost missed it. Almost.

Andy loved Traci, but when she had an idea she was like a dog with a bone.

"It's early days," Andy said sighing.

"What's early days?" Traci asked, thinking Andy did have the scoop on the new lady in Swarek's life.

"Me and Sam," she said playing with the straw in her glass, and not looking at Traci.

"You mean... you're the girlfriend? So Jerry was right! Go Jerry!"

"Traci, I swear if you say anything to anybody, I'll never talk to you again."

"Hmm," Tracey said. "We're just good friends," she said doing her best impersonation of Andy.

Andy gave her an evil look, causing Traci to smiled widely with pure happiness. She hugged Andy tightly, and placed another kiss on her cheek.

"You realise I can't breathe?" Andy said struggling out of her bear hug, but laughing none the less.

Traci laughed out loud, and kissed Andy on the lips.

"Yuck, Traci!" Andy said, and they both laughed again.

After watching this display between these two friends, Sam couldn't resist it, and turned to Jerry.

"McNally and Nash... you just might be right Jerry. Maybe Nash is the other woman."

"Gotta agree," Oliver said joining in, "that was definitely some hot girl on girl action".

Jerry seemed to consider it for a few seconds before dismissing it, and Noelle rolled her eyes wondering how he could still be so gullible after all these years.

"Maybe McNally fills a void, that you're not quite fulfilling buddy," Sam added, enjoying making him squirm.

And like a moth to a flame, Jerry marched over to Traci, slid in the booth next to her, grabbed her by her hair and kissed her so aggressively, keeping one eye on Andy throughout. Andy stared at him weirdly, and Traci pulled back and looked at him startled, and slightly irritated.

Oliver, Noelle and Sam, were laughing so hard, at the predictability of his reaction.

"Jerry my friend," Oliver shouted across the bar, "pissing around the table to mark your territory would have been much more subtle."

Traci shooed Jerry away, not even bothering to ask what the farcical display of affection was about.

"Jerry, baby," she said sweetly, "me and Andy are having a girly chat, we'll talk later."

Jerry returned back to the bar sulking.

"What's McNally got that I don't?" he asked, watching them whispering and giggling once more.

The three friends looked at one another, and laughed.

"Man, this is so easy," Noelle said shaking her head.

"Listen Jerry," Oliver said sarcastically, "I think it's time that we had a chat about the birds and the bees..."

* * *

><p>Sam and Andy left the bar about an hour later, and were both the first to admit that they had a pleasant time. Andy told Traci more about her and Sam, leaving out the fact they were practically living together and the circumstances that led up to it. Sam stayed with his friends, mostly making fun each other, and catching up on their news.<p>

"Do you fancy going for a drive?" Sam asked Andy, once she entered his truck.

"Where too?" Andy asked.

"No where in particular, I've just had such a nice evening, that I'd like it to last just that little bit longer."

"Alright," Andy said smiling, and fastened her seatbelt.

They drove around for a while, just watching the city pass them by. It was a completely different feel than being on patrol, as they were always looking for criminal activity, and never really had time to take it all that Toronto had to offer.

"I lost both my parents by the time I was fourteen," Sam said suddenly, out of the blue.

Andy turned and looked at him shocked, wondering where his sudden outburst had sprung from.

"I figured you've shared a lot with me recently and I should do the same," Sam said, reading her thoughts.

Andy knew his parents were dead, but it was never anything they'd ever discussed in any great length in the time they had known one another.

'My mom was ill for a long time and spent most of her time in bed. To be honest I don't remember her ever not being ill. She never really left her room and died when I was eleven.'

"I'm sorry Sam," Andy said, brushing his hand lightly.

"Don't be," Sam said calmly. "She was always in so much pain, that I only felt relief, when she was gone. Even at that age, I knew that a person shouldn't have to endure so much pain."

"And your dad?" she asked softly.

"My dad died of a heart attack three years later, but to be honest I think he died of a broken heart, he was still so young, and it was unexpected. Dad was never the same after mom died and I know he missed her alot. They were childhood sweethearts, got married at sixteen, and I've no doubt they would still be together now if they were both still alive. We lived with our grandparents, after my dad passed, and things were fine, but I still missed them. Things were tough financially, but we managed. Me and Sarah knew we couldn't afford to go to college or university after high school like most of our friends, so I joined the police force and Sarah took a full-time job."

He kept his eyes on the road, and turned the radio on. Andy guessed that was the end of the discussion, but she was touched he'd chosen to share that with her.

"Oh, apparently Boyko is coming to pay us a visit at 15, anytime soon. I haven't seen him in ages, it must have been about a year since he was promoted right?"

"Yeah, something like that," Andy said composedly.

She turned up the volume on the radio, allowing the sound of the ballad playing to fill the truck. Sam turned and smiled at her, not really too bothered about what Noelle said. Sam didn't really want to talk about Boyko, and by the looks if it neither did Andy. She'd talk to him when she was ready, she'd proven that to him already.

Sam was right, it was a really nice night and Andy wanted to focus on that, rather than if there was any significance in Boyko visiting. She leant back in her seat, and closed her eyes allowing the music to relax her, and stop herself from over thinking. The problem was it was hard not to, as Boyko was important in her agenda, which therefore equated worry.

_Andy had never been to headquarters before. They had been shown a picture of the building during their orientation week at the academy, but she never expected it to be as grand as it was. The building was well lit from the outside, and with the fountains on the grounds it looked almost beautiful. She approached its steps with a sense of trepidation and excitement. She was sure Frank would have been mad with her, but was surprisingly calm when she went to see him that morning. She was pretty certain in her request, but fairly vague in her rationale. Andy didn't expect to get an answer so soon, but she did. When Frank revealed he too was surprised at the speedy response from headquarters, she felt maybe it was because of her father. He was respected in his day, and still held the record for the least unsolved cases. Even Luke in all his arrogance had said positive things about him, and that was saying something._

_Approaching the desk, she greeted the receptionist, who was dressed in a uniform not to dissimilar to what she had worn earlier. She wondered if she was doing their equivalent of desk duty, and was about to ask when her nerves got the better of her. _

_"Good afternoon, may I help you?" the receptionist asked._

_"Yes," Andy said clearing her throat. "I have an appointment with Superintendent Boyko. My name is Officer Andrea McNally."_

_The receptionist looked down on her list, and shook her head._

_"I'm sorry, Superintendent Boyko has no appointments scheduled for this afternoon. Are you sure you have the right day?"_

_Andy pulled out the folded piece of paper Frank had given to her earlier, and re-read it's details._

_"Yes, it's today. I was told you should call his extension number when I arrive."_

_"Hold on one moment," she said and dialed a number. She spoke to the person briefly on the other end, and ended the call._

_"That's fine officer. Superintendent Boyko has asked you to take the elevator to the fifth floor. His office is the 3rd door on the right, it is signposted."_

_Andy smiled gratefully and made her way to the elevator. She had not seen Boyko since he was a sergeant at 15, and although she liked Frank, she always thought of Boyko fondly remembering the amount of screw ups she had made as a rookie, namely forgetting to load her gun. Andy was sure she would have been severely reprimanded but he was surprisingly understanding, and did not scream at her as she had expected. She was glad she wasn't meeting Superintendent Peck, it would have been awkward although her dad always said her bark was worse than her bite. He always referred to her as Elaine and she always called him Tommy, and made a point of asking after his well-being when she made her unannounced visits to 15 Division. Tommy never had a bad word to say about her, and almost made her sound human, which she knew was next to impossible, as she was a Peck after all. Andy was brought out of her thoughts, by the sound of the elevator announcing that she was indeed on the 5th floor. She stepped out shakily, veering towards to right and knocked on the third door as instructed. A familiar voice shouted for her to enter, which she did standing nervously against the door, unsure of what the form of etiquette should be._

_"Officer McNally," Boyko said warmly, "come in, take a seat."_

Sam started to sing along with the radio, he was surprisingly quite good, his voice was smooth.

"You're not bad Sam," Andy said. "You should sing at the next Karaoke night, you'd probably win."

"I'll sing if you do McNally," Sam said.

"Have you heard me sing?" Andy asked laughing. "I wouldn't inflict that on others. I think I'll stick to singing in the shower."

"Do I get to scrub your back when you do?" he asked cockily.

"Only if I get to scrub yours," she threw back, and smiled.

_"Thank-You for agreeing to see me sir," she said shakily. "I realise you are a very busy man."_

_"Yes I am," he said, "But I'll make an exception for Tommy's daughter. Although I do question whether Tommy knows about this. How is he by the way?"_

_"He's doing good sir, real good," Andy said with a voice full of love and pride. "Just over eight months sober, and has just started the next level of the programme. We talk most nights, but visits are limited while he is at this level of transition."_

_Boyko nodded, pleased to hear Tommy was doing well. _

_"So he doesn't know your here today?" he questioned._

_"Well with all due respect sir, I only just heard from Sergeant Best that you wanted to see me."_

_"So if I had told you to see me next week, you would have told Tommy?"_

_He was still very sharp and shrewd, she shouldn't have expected any different._

_"Probably not," Andy admitted. "Besides it's complicated. I don't want to effect his progress, and I don't think he'd be able to answer my questions. I wouldn't want to put him through that. He's been through enough already."_

_She was beginning to feel very warm, and slipped off her coat. Boyko got up and poured her a glass of water, which she drunk very quickly, unsure of how things would progress. He stood facing away from her, hands in pockets, staring out at the scenery through his office window. She sat watching him expectantly, grateful for any scrap of information she could obtain._

_"This is not normal practice Andrea, which is why I did not log your visit at the front desk. Believe me, I am colouring outside the lines in seeing you like this, and it's a good thing I'm only a couple years away from retirement. It must have been your lucky day that I intercepted the call from Sergeant Best. If it were Superintendent Peck, well... I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."_

_He turned to refilled her glass, and poured something a little stronger into his own, bringing the glass to his lips._

_"Here's the problem I have," Boyko said returning to his seat, and looking at her intently. "Tommy is a friend, a good friend and I have my reservations about talking to you without him being here."_

_"But Sir I..."_

_Boyko raised his hand to silence her, and continued to speak._

_"I know you are an adult, I've seen you grow from a little girl to the exceptional woman you have become. Tommy raised you well in circumstances that were...," she could see he was searching for the right words, "challenging."_

_Andy narrowed her eyes when he said those words. Always defensive of what others thought about her father, when they did not know the full story._

_As if Boyko could read her mind, he continued to talk._

_"I signed the recommendation papers..."_

_Andy furrowed her brow confused, her hand tightened around her glass._

_"...for the adoption."_

_Andy swallowed hard, taking another gulp of water, and simply stared. No words would describe what she was feeling. She thought only her family knew. Boyko certainly never mentioned it to her before._

_"Does Sergeant Best know? Or..." her throat felt dry._

_"Nobody knows apart from me. Unless Tommy told others, but I certainly haven't. I didn't necessarily agree with it at the time, and with very good reason. But you were so attached to him, and him to you; your face always lit up when he entered the room. And your grandmother...well, she had a way of persuading people."_

_Andy smiled, eyes glistening at the mention of Margaret's name._

_"Yeah, my grandmother was a force to be reckoned with," she acknowledged._

_"The point is Andrea, I don't see what good can come from this. Restricted access files are closed for a reason, and I was the one who sanctioned it at the time. There is no information in there about you or the adoption, so there is nothing to link you to the felon."_

_"He wasn't just a criminal though was he sir? __He was my father."_

_"Tommy's your father."_

_"No, Tommy's my dad," she said in an attempt to clarify the difference between the two men. A dad held much more weight in her eyes, but now wasn't the time for semantics._

_"I can assure you there is nothing in that file, that you would benefit from knowing," Boyko said firmly._

_"So I can see it?"_

_"No. I will not authorise it, and if you pursue this it will only blow up in your face. People will start to ask questions, and I don't want to have to be the one to give the answers."_

_"But sir, there's things I need to know," she pleaded._

_"Things you've managed to live without for over twenty years. I'm telling you this as your superior, a family friend and as a father myself, just forget all of this. You're doing well at 15, reports are good and you've become an excellent officer, and the makings of a fine undercover agent. You have Tommy and your grandmother to thank for that, not some hardened criminal who put the next drug deal first before you. Focus on your career and your future, forget about this quest to know more."_

_His words hit Andy hard and she started to cry unconrollably, deep long sobs from the pit of her soul. She needed him to understand why she was doing this, she needed to make him understand. Boyko handed her a tissue, deciding whether to say more or to leave it at that. He wasn't sure why she was here, she had always known she was adopted, but her distress was disturbing. _

_"I just need to know. It's all I've been thinking about for the last few weeks," she stuttered in between her tears. "Did he look like me? Did he talk alot? Is he scared of thunder too? Does he like hotdogs?"_

_Boyko took his bottle of Scotch and poured a generous amount into her glass._

_"What's this really about?" he asked. "You and I both know, the answers to those sort of questions can't be found in that file."_

_"Maybe a photo..." she said hopefully, wiping her eyes._

_"Those are not the sort of photos you need to be seeing Andrea. They're crime scene photos."_

_Andy gulped down the scotch, and felt the burn of the liquid as it travelled down her throat._

_"So?" he asked again, so softly that it was nothng like the Boyko she remembered. "I think I've demonstrated my ability to keep a secret don't you?" he said giving her a crooked smile._

_"I've been having trouble sleeping. I keep having flashbacks or dreams, maybe both, I'm not sure. They seem so real, and I don't know if they are in my imagination or just wishful thinking."_

_She took the bottle unbashfully, and poured more of the liquor into her glass._

_"If they are real, then what you've said about my father is wrong. If they are in my imagination, then... then... I.."_

_"Then you think you may need to be hospitalised again," he said calmly finishing her thoughts for her._

_Andy opened her eyes, horrified._

_"Is there nothing you don't know!" she said aghast, more embarrassed than anything else, and burst into tears once more._

_"Like I said, Andrea, I'm good at keeping secrets. Tommy needed someone to confide it at the time, and in this job we all need to speak to someone or things spiral out of control. He never forgave himself for what happened."_

_"It wasn't his fault, nothing was." She kept her eyes averted, still reeling from his recent revelation._

_"That's what I told him. But sometimes words aren't enough."_

_They both remained silent, both sipping from their glasses taking a recess from the heavy conversation that was unfolding._

_"Are you seeing a counsellor?" he asked._

_Andy nodded, rolling her eyes at the same time._

_"Not through the department?"_

_"No," she said wondering if she had said too much._

_"That's good..." Boyko said softly, "..stays off your record that way."_

_He sat twirling his glass in his hand, wondering when his job became so damn difficult._

_"Any good?"_

_"It has it's moments," she said dryly, and he nodded in understanding._

"Isn't it funny, how sometimes a song seems to sum up your life? " Andy asked Sam, her brown eyes staring at him in wonder.

Sam raised an eyebrow as the song playing was a Barry Manilow track.

"No, silly," Andy laughed, "I don't mean this one."

"I should hope not," Sam said when the chorus to Coco Cabana began to play.

The radio station continued to play a range of songs, whilst they drove around, both feeling relaxed and at ease. They noted the time and decided to head home. They had driven almost an hour out of town, and Sam turned the truck around in the direction of the city.

_After a few more minutes, and feeling much calmer, she began to speak again._

_"Sir...this request isn't about finding long lost relatives or disregarding my dad. I love him with all my heart, I truly do, I would do anything for him. It's about me sir, me. Andrea McNally. I feel like I'm losing myself. Everyday I arrest people, who have no disregard for others and the implications of their actions, and it makes me think about my real father. All I know is the little I've heard from my dad and now from you. I need to find some good in that file, something pure. If he was so bad, so merciless, then what does that make me? Is that why my mother left, could she see something wicked in me? Is there something so wrong with me, that the only person who I can call family, and who loves me is recovering from alcohol addiction? Was that me too, did I cause that?" __She took a deep breath, the relief of offloading her thoughts that prevented her from sleeping made her feel giddy._

_"Here's what I know, and I'm speaking frankly," Boyko said. "I don't believe your biological father was a good man, he shot at two police officers, killing one, and severely injuring the other. He didn't consider you or your well being when he was breaking the law, you were there at the scene. You could have been shot or killed too. Do you know you were never registered at any school before social services took you in? You were a very bright and intelligent child who would have fallen by the wayside if we didn't intervene." He licked his lips, considering whether to continue. "__We believe your father was working close with Anton Hill, Toronto's most wanted drugs trafficking criminal, who we have never had enough evidence to put away."_

_Andy cringed slightly, remember how she messed up Sam's case on her first day and almost got him killed when they discovered he was a cop. She didn't need to hear about Anton Hill, and the possibility he knew her father was just too much to contemplate. _

_"One of the other reasons this file is restricted, because in the past information has been leaked that has helped Hill escape conviction. Anything we have that is linked to Anton Hill however loosely has been sealed, so that one day, and mark my words it will happen one day, we plan to put together the biggest case against him that leaves a judge and jury no room for doubt and will put him behind bars for life."_

_Andy sat motionless, finally hearing some details of her past. Although it wasn't what she needed to know, she lapped it up regardless._

_Boyko nodded, took the bottle of scotch and placed it back behind some books on a shelf._

_"If you are asking if I think people are born bad, then I will say no I don't. We learn how to behave from our surroundings and are a product of our life experiences. The reason you are a good and kind person because you were raised that way. I don't think your father was born bad, but in the end that's what he was."_

_Andy could clearly hear what Boyko was saying, but everytime she closed her eyes, she remembered laughing, hugs and kisses. She remembered feeding the ducks and eating hotdogs. She remembered bath-time, and a man brushing her hair and him kissing her goodnight. The man in her dreams wasn't Tommy it was somebody else. He was tall and slim, with jet black hair, but she couldn't remember his features. Something wasn't right, maybe she was losing her mind afterall._

_She started to cry some more, shaking her head. "I'm so tired..."_

_"Andrea, this conversation never happened. I'm speaking to you off the record as you needed to hear it. If anybody asks I will say you were updating me on Tommy. Do you think you can let this go now? I've told you everything I think is relevant, you have my word."_

_"I'll try, I really will try. I guess I just need to sleep more, and start taking care of myself. I'm missing my dad too, which isn't helping, it takes me two hours and three buses to visit him," she sighed. "I'll be fine, McNally's are made of strong stuff," she sniffed, wiping her eyes once more. "Thank-you sir, I truly mean it."_

_She took her coat, and began to get ready to leave when she felt Boyko's hand on her shoulder. He looked at her intently, and was having an internal debate._

_"Officer McNally stay a while and collect your thoughts. I need to speak to my secretary, make a call and take a bathroom break. All in all, I should be back in about twenty minutes." He made an emphasis on twenty minutes, drawing out the words._

_Boyko went back to his seat, and unlocked his desk drawer, pulling out a brown file. Andy took in a breath, noting the name written in block letters on its sleeve. He paused for a moment considering his next move, hesitating only momentarily, until he caught the expression on her face. He opened the file and removed several photos which he placed back in the drawer and locked it again, putting the key in his shirt pocket. He left the file on his desk and walked out. _

_Andy's heart began to race, and with trembling hands opened the file and began to read._


	10. Chapter 10

**AN- Wishing you all a Happy New Year, but most importantly, sit back, read, review and above all enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Collisions.<strong>

"So, how was your night?" Traci asked.

"Fine," Andy answered, opening her locker, and pulling out her uniform.

Traci watched her friend with curiosity as she began to get undressed.

"So... I stopped by your place this morning, thought I'd give you a ride in," she said full of intrigue at her friends daybreak disappearance.

"I was at Sam's place, we went for a drive after we left the Penny last night, and we got back late" she said, glancing around the locker room, relieved it was just the two of them.

"So you stayed over?" Traci asked.

"Yes," Andy said slipping on her shirt, hoping Traci would stop with the questions, so she wouldn't have to explain the extent of her staying over.

"So is it true, does Swarek sizzle in sack?" she asked smiling mischievously.

"Totally inappropriate Traci," Andy said, looking at her disapprovingly.

"What?" Traci laughed, "Don't think I didn't noticed you stayed well away from that part of our conversation last night."

Andy shook her head, and began to button up her shirt.

"So have you...you know?" Traci whispered.

"I told you it's still early days. We're taking things slow."

"And Swarek's okay with that?" Traci asked surprised.

"Yes. Why wouldn't he be?"

"No reason, Sam just strikes me as a go get them kind of guy that's all."

"So far from the truth Trace," Andy said, rejecting her statement vehemently. "He's really patient, strong, understanding, kind..." she had a dreamy look on her face.

"You really like him don't you?" Traci probed. She had never seen Andy respond to a man like that before.

Andy remained silent, and began to braid her hair. Feeling the colour rise to her cheeks, she turned her back towards Traci, who was still patiently waiting for a response to her question. She knew Andy well enough to sense she wanted to say something. Traci could only imagine the expression on her face, but the tell-tell sign of her heavy sigh let her know that a response was coming very soon.

"It was me that said I wanted to go slow, not to rush things. But it's all I can do to stop myself from touching him all the time. Every time he kisses me, my head turns fuzzy and I can't think straight. Seriously Traci, I swear I could just tear his clothes off!"

Traci laughed out loud, and shook her head.

"I'm nymphomaniac right?" Andy questioned, trying to understand her lustful behaviour.

"Don't be silly Andy," she said smiling, and shaking her head. "You're sexually attracted to him, and that isn't a bad thing, in fact it's a good thing."

Andy slumped down on the bench, her hair incomplete, and it had started to unravel itself.

"I really want to do it with him Traci, like...a lot."

"So then go for it," she said, wondering why it was such a dilemma.

"What if he doesn't like the way I do it? What if I've forgotten what to do? It's been so long since I've been with anybody." Andy could actually feel herself hyperventilating at the thought of it all.

Traci sat down beside her, and began to re-braid her hair.

"Look Andy," she said calmly, "It will be fine. Just keep it simple. A bottle of wine, some music and nice company."

"And that's all it takes?"

"Pretty much. Some sexy underwear wouldn't hurt either... and soon you'll be having sexy time with Swarek."

Andy took a few deep breaths and nodded, feeling reassured by Traci's words.

"Sam's staying behind tonight for a few hours to help Jerry work on the papers for some court case tomorrow. It should give me enough time to cook a nice meal and get ready," she decided.

"So tonight's the night then?" Traci said finishing Andy's hair and securing it with a band.

"I guess it is!" she said, laughing nervously.

"You'll be fine Andy; it's just like riding a bike. You never forget," she chuckled.

"I never learnt how to ride a bike," Andy said in all seriousness.

"Well you'll be riding something tonight that's for sure!" Traci announced loudly.

"Very unladylike Traci," Andy said, and two friends began to laugh, continuing to get ready for parade.

* * *

><p>Sam arrived home a few hours after Andy, to be greeted by the most wonderful aroma wafting from his kitchen. He toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, making his way towards the source of the smell. He could see Andy, well the back of her at the very least as she sipped a glass of wine, swaying to and fro to the soft music that was playing in the background. He smiled softly at her relaxed form, as she glided around the kitchen in ease.<p>

"Hey," Andy said, walking towards him when she heard the clink of his keys as they landed on the kitchen counter.

"Hey yourself," he said back kissing her on the temple. "You look nice,'" Sam said taking her hand and spinning her around, to admire her outfit. It was a simple, deep red, sleeveless cotton dress, which stopped just short of her knees. Her hair was held up with a clip and several strands were hanging lose around her face. The dining table was laid out with candles, his nice dinnerware set and crystal wine glasses.

Andy handed Sam her unfinished glass of wine, which he emptied in two large gulps.

"Thirsty?" she said sarcastically, refilling the glass generously.

Sam noticed Andy was barefoot, and her pink toe nails stood out against the black tiled floor of the kitchen. He brushed his hand through her hair, allowing his hand to settle briefly on her cheek, before removing it.

"You smell nice too," he added, taking in her scent, and tried to appear unaffected by what it was doing to him.

"Well you're full of compliments today," she said kissing him softly on the lips.

Andy turned to walk back towards the stove, and Sam followed, watching her as she lifted the lid off the pot. The smell that hit his nostrils could only be described as sublime. Andy added a few more herbs, stirring the contents once more, before replacing the lid.

"Almost there," she said turning to smile at him, "and about twenty minutes before it's almost ready this baby goes in," she said, patting the Aubergine sitting patiently on the counter.

"So does this dish have a name?" Sam asked, slipping his hands around her waist, and pressing his body close. He had already finished his second glass of wine.

"Um, no...no, not really," Andy said struggling to think clearly with him pressed against her the way he was.

"That's a shame, we'll have to call it something," Sam declared. After thinking for a short while, he refilled his glass as he made a suggestion. "How about Andy's Aubergine Extravaganza?" he asked, bringing the wine glass to his lips.

"Sounds like a porno film Sam," she laughed softly, as she walked over to put the bread basket on the dining table, and to create a much needed distance between the two of them.

"I can just see it now..." he said, using his hand for a dramatic effect.

"Don't go there," she said shaking her head, having a fair idea of the images floating around Sam's head. She tucked herself closer to him and drank from his glass; already feeling the affects of the alcohol in her system.

"Well, let me see. You and several vegetables...I really can see it right now," he said in a raspy voice, which was a direct result of her standing so close.

Andy swatted his arm playfully, causing Sam to laugh softly. Raising an eyebrow in a way that was so typically him, he slipped one hand gently on her waist.

"What's for dessert?" he asked, innocently enough, his thumb gently caressing the material of her dress.

"Me," she said, looking at Sam and smiling shyly.

Andy spoke in almost a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear. Sam closed the distance between them further, and cupped her face with his hand, running his thumb across her cheek, causing her to shiver.

"In fact..." she said much more loudly this time, "dinner won't be ready for at least another hour... if you want to have your dessert first."

Sam took in an audible but small breath, and Andy simply stared waiting for an answer. She had never propositioned a man before in her life, but with Sam there were starting to be quite a few firsts.

Andy placed the glass of wine on the counter; afraid her nerves would cause her to spill it all over her dress. Stepping closer, she invaded his personal space and pressed her chest against his, making Sam moan softly. Grabbing a fistful of her hair he kissed her with an intensity that startled her, but motivated her to respond with the same vigor. Sam spun Andy around backing her up against the fridge, pressing his body tightly against hers. Her hands gripped his shirt, kissing him hungrily, and they stayed that way for some time, feasting on one another until neither could barely breathe. Sam pulled the clip out of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders, and moved his head back to fully appreciate her beauty. He crashed his lips against hers once more, gently biting her bottom lip, and using her hair as an anchor to pull her mouth impossibly closer towards his. They pulled away from one another panting, trying to read each other's thoughts, making sure they were both on the same page, and the look Sam was giving Andy told her that they were. Loosening her grip on his shirt, Andy moved her hands slowly down his chest towards his waist. She unbuckled his belt, while he braced his hands on either side of her allowing total access. His breathing was heavy, and she could already see the sweat forming on his brow. Nudging her nose with his own, she angled her head upwards towards his, and they kissed once more. Her hands stroked the bulge in his trousers, causing Sam to hiss, and whisper her name. His hot breath in her ear gave her goose bumps and caused Andy to moan his name back in return.

Sam kissed and licked her neck, sliding down the straps of her dress, causing it to fall past her shoulders and just above her waist. The sight of her red lace bra was almost too much for his rapidly beating heart to take, and he lowered his mouth to her breasts, sucking and kissing the full flesh, that sat outside the confines of the lacy material. Closing her eyes and tipping her head back in pleasure, Andy sighed loudly, running her fingers through his hair and tugging him closer. Sam started thrusting his hips into her, groaning at she kissed his neck, grazing him with her teeth.

Sam pulled back from her, looking at her face long and hard, for any signs of regret. He could just about stop himself from going any further, but if she kept looking at him the way she was the probability of that was next to none. He paused to kiss her tenderly, brushing his lips across her eyelids, causing them to flutter shut. Although there was no hesitation on her part, he needed to hear Andy say it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sam asked, slightly breathless, inwardly praying she wouldn't change her mind now that they had gone this far.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she said with certainty. "Do you want me Sam?" she asked, needing to hear it too.

"I can't even begin to describe how much I want you," he responded, rubbing his nose against hers once more.

"Then show me."

Sam took Andy by the hand and both made their way through the kitchen and living room, walking up the stairs to his bedroom.

* * *

><p>Afterwards, they both lay on their sides facing one another, both trying to comprehend what had just happened between them. Andy realised she probably looked a messed, Sam had licked, sucked and caressed her in the most intimate places that she saw stars several times. Andy ran a hand through her hair and over her flushed face, trying to fix her appearance. She was about to do the same again, until Sam spoke to her.<p>

"Don't," Sam simply said.

Andy looked at him with wide eyes, her hand suspended in mid-air.

"Don't change anything, about this moment. You look beautiful just the way you are," he said.

Andy moved her hand away, taken aback by his frankness. Although it was a quality she admired in him, at times his statements coupled with that look he gave, made her feel exposed and completely vulnerable. Andy leaned forward on her elbows and shakily kissed Sam slowly, feeling weak yet enjoying the feelings it aroused in her.

"How you doing?" she asked, hoping he felt as great as she did.

"Good," he said, smiling lazily at her.

"Just good?" she pouted, rubbing her thumb over his eyebrow.

"Okay, pretty fantastic actually," he revealed, placing a kiss on her neck.

She snuggled up closer to him, and he held her tight, pulling the bed sheets over them. There were so many thoughts running through Sam's head at that precise moment, but his only coherent one was that Andy was finally his.

"I really could fall asleep right now," Andy said sighing contently, her head resting on his chest.

"What worn out already? That was only an appetiser, we haven't had the real dessert yet," Sam teased.

"No, silly," Andy laughed. "I'm not tired, just really relaxed. I feel like my mind is so clear right now that I could sleep without thinking. Does that make sense?" she asked, unsure if her ramblings were just that.

Sam nodded and held her chin, lowering his head to kiss her deeply.

"Maybe we should do this more often then. Purely for therapeutic reasons of course," he suggested, although his tone of voice indicated something very different.

"Of course," Andy said smiling, knowing Sam was on a comedic roll, which was always guaranteed to make her laugh.

"Well it beats seeing that kooky counsellor," he said.

"That's for sure," she giggled rolling her eyes.

"And it beats not eating properly."

"Yep, gotta agree with you there. Coffee as a meal replacement is so over rated," she deadpanned.

"And it beats sitting on a bench, in the middle of the night on the other side of town staring into space," he added, laughing at his own joke.

"I suppose it does," she said slowly.

Andy sat up and looked at him, her mouth forming a thin tight line. Instantly Sam realised what he had said, and regretted it. Sarah always told him his sense of humour was an acquired taste, again how true her words were at that very moment.

"Andy..." Sam croaked, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

Andy pulled back the bed sheets, climbed out of bed and slipped her dress back on.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, feeling very uneasy.

"To finish dinner," she said smiling stiffly. "Time to add the Aubergine to my extravaganza," she said with a fake cheerfulness, willing her heart rate to slow down, and the tears that were beginning to form not to fall just yet. She needed to process what Sam had just said, and switched herself into autopilot, the one McNally trait she had most definitely inherited.

Sam watched her leave the bedroom, a little unsteady in her movements as she made her way downstairs. He didn't know what to do; Andy wasn't stupid and knew that he had seen her sitting on the bench. He pulled on his pair of jeans and t-shirt, walking quickly down the stairs to try and salvage the situation. Andy was standing at the kitchen counter, drinking the remaining wine straight from the bottle. Sam wasn't accustomed to seeing Andy drink very much, and definitely not in such a blatant fashion. She turned and looked at him, and Sam could see the disappointment and confusion in her eyes.

"Andy..."

She remained silent, willing herself to remain calm, because her initial embarrassment and upset at what Sam may have seen was now turning into anger, real fire and brimstone anger. She took another swig from the bottle and closed her eyes, remembering the techniques she'd been taught during her counselling sessions. Counting to ten wasn't working for her, and visualising a calming scene was only making her more irate. _Worry about the things that are important and forget the rest._ She had been working through her issues using that as her mantra, and it was working. This new discovery was important, too important, and she couldn't just forget it or let it go.

"What?" Andy finally snapped, growing tired of Sam watching her. "What excuse have you got for following me? Because you did follow me didn't you?"

"It wasn't like that," he said.

"So you didn't follow me, it was just a coincidence? Please tell me that's all it was Sam, otherwise we have a serious problem."

She took another mouthful of wine, not really enjoying the taste, but rather the distraction it gave her from recent revelations.

"I was worried about you, I didn't know what else to do," Sam explained, stepping closer towards her, his hands outstretched. Andy stepped back trying to keep a manageable distance between the two of them.

"Well, then I guess that makes it alright then," she said bitterly.

"Andy, I..."

"No. You stop talking," she said raising her voice. "You don't have the right to tell me anything." Her breathing was becoming more sporadic, and her vision blurring from the tears in her eyes.

"Andy, please calm down. You're over reacting, I was just worried," he said, edging closer.

"I'm overreacting? I'll show you overreacting," she screamed, grabbing the locket from around her neck, ripping it off and throwing it on the floor. That simple action caused Sam to stop still, shocked by her display of anger. It showed Sam how much he had messed up, and how any foundations they had built over the last few weeks was starting to crumble.

"Andy please try to understand, I was worried about you. You just left the house in the middle of the night; you didn't say where you was going or how long you'd be. Obviously, I didn't know the things then that I know now. I didn't know what else to do," he choked.

"You could have asked me," she attacked.

"Like you would have said," he bit back, and instantly regretted antagonsing the situation further.

"We'll l guess you'll never know the answer to that now," she said flatly.

She closed her eyes tightly, realising the brief ceasefire her thoughts had allowed her, was now officially over.

"It's all ruined," she whispered, scraping her hair up into loose bun, and surveying the room she was standing in.

"Andy talk to me, we've come too far to let this fall apart over one mistake," he begged, gesturing between the two of them. "I'm sorry that I followed you, but I really didn't feel I had a choice at the time."

"It's not that you followed me Sam, I can get that, I truly can. It's the fact that you lied to me. I asked you where you went that night, and you looked me in the eye and told me you were putting out garbage. Garbage! That was when you followed me wasn't it?"

Sam remained silent, unable to look her in the eye.

"I think that answers my question,2 she said turning away from him.

The anger she was feeling, was still bubbling away, and it wouldn't settle. Andy took the bottle to her mouth again and continued drinking. Trying to dull the emotions she was experiencing, and her feelings for the man she had just made love to so freely.

"You lied to me Sam..."

"I know," he whispered, "and I've been kicking myself ever since."

"What else have you lied to me about? Huh?"

Sam looked at her confused.

"Are you even called Sam? Maybe you have a wife you forgot to tell me about or a couple of kids..."

"Now you're just being ridiculous," he sighed in frustration.

As soon as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he didn't know what the right thing to say was either. Sam knew he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. The look Andy gave him was blood curdling, and she twisted her mouth in disdain.

"Ridiculous?" she said in a tone that was completely alien to him, something almost akin to Gail.

"What's ridiculous is this," she said waving her arms around the kitchen. "What's ridiculous is me thinking that you liked and respected me."

She poured the rest of the wine down the sink, feeling nauseous at her uncustomary large intake of alcohol.

"But the most ridiculous thing of all," she said with venom, "was me sleeping with you."

Those words stung him badly, and he tried not to look hurt. Andy went to the stove and picked up the pot and tipped its contents in the sink. Sam remained motionless watching her fall apart in front of his eyes. She walked to the dining table and threw the bread rolls in the bin, snapped the candles in half and threw them away too. She turned off the music, throwing the CD on the floor; the tears were now flowing easily and would not stop. Andy was destroying everything from that evening, and Sam let her, hoping it was better than keeping her emotions bottled up. Andy surveyed the room, seeing what else she could destroy when both their eyes landed on the Aubergine sitting on the kitchen worktop. For the first time since her rage erupted, Sam moved quickly to stop her reaching her designated destination.

"Andy, don't!" he pleaded, but to no avail.

She got there before him, grabbing the vegetable and holding it above her head. The tears were falling fast, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Andy don't," he pleaded again. The foreboding feeling he was experiencing was close to torture, watching the vegetable in her quivering hands.

"You made me trust you Sam, made me tell you things I'd never told a soul."

"I know, I know sweetheart. You can trust me. We can work this out, we can..." he said nodding repeatedly.

Andy let the Aubergine fall from her hands and Sam made a futile attempt to catch it, to try and save what it stood for, but failed. The vegetable fell onto the floor with a loud thud, its shell splitting, and its contents spilling everywhere.

Andy turned and walked away from him, and Sam made no attempt to go after her. He fixed his eyes on the vegetable on the ground, its entrails splattered across his kitchen tiles. Her words had stung him badly and his heart resembled the desecrated vegetable before his very eyes. This woman that who not too long ago was enthusiastically writhing under him in pleasure now hated him, as much as he now hated himself right at that moment.

* * *

><p>Andy went into her room, still feeling mad with an uncontrollable urge to hit something. Logic told her to talk to Sam, and not to push him away, but she knew she couldn't when she was feeling this way. Andy took off her dress and put on a pair of jeans, tank top and cardigan. Andy passed his bedroom, the door was still wide open, her underwear was still strewn on the floor, and the bed sheets were a tangled mess. She made her way downstairs, slipping on her boots and coat.<p>

"Where are you going Andy?" Sam asked hoarsely, still feeling dazed.

"Out."

"Where to?"

"Away from you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering when his day suddenly turned to shit.

"No you're not. We need to talk," he said blocking her path with his body, changing tactics, and taking some affirmative action.

"I don't want to talk to you," she snapped.

"I'm not letting you run away from this, and avoid talking about this," he said firmly.

"Really? There's really not much to say Sam, I think I was pretty clear in my feelings." His persistent only made the anger inside her grow bigger.

She marched out of the house, and Sam scrambled to put on his shoes and coat to follow her.

"Andy, come back here!" he shouted.

"Go to hell!" she screeched back.

He quickened his pace, catching up to her, pulling her by the arm.

"Andy," he said in a pained voice, grabbing her hand. She turned to face him, and all he could see was hurt and disappointment in her tear filled eyes.

"Andy sweetheart," he said touching her face, and as she leaned into his hand, for a few seconds she was his again. She shook her head and stepping away from him, and the warm feeling of his touch. Andy continued walking, and Sam kept on following until they found themselves outside the Penny.

"Leave me alone Sam!" she growled.

"No!" he shouted back.

"You've got want you wanted, so go back to Monica, she's the one who you really want."

"Monica! What the hell are you talking about? You're nuts if you think I want her."

"So now the truth comes out. I over react, I'm ridiculous and now I'm nuts. Say what you really mean Sam...say I'm crazy!"

"Andy, I never said that."

Before he could say anymore, Andy stormed into the Penny, letting the door swing shut behind her.

"Andy!" Traci said somewhat surprised, when Andy almost crashed into her as she made her way back from the bar carrying a pitcher of beer. "I thought you had plans tonight."

"Yeah, well plans change," she muttered sarcastically.

Traci took in her friends appearance, her smudged mascara, red eyes, but also a collection of love bites on her neck, and raised an eyebrow.

"Andy did something happen?" Traci asked, suddenly concerned.

"I'm totally fine Traci," she said, "totally great."

When Sam came in not more than thirty seconds later, Traci looked on anxiously between the two, sensing the tension.

"Andy! What's going on?" Traci hissed as her best friend walked away from Sam.

Andy scanned her eyes across the Penny and saw Bobby Richards at the bar. She made her way over to him occupying the spare stool on his left side.

"Hey Bobby," she said, knowing full well Sam was watching, and it would piss him off.

"Andy, long time!" he said in his usual loud manner.

"So are you ever gonna buy me that drink?" she asked flirtatiously.

"For sure!" he said eagerly, trying to get the bartenders attention.

Sam was jealous watching the scene unfold before his eyes, and his mood turned dark.

"Is everything okay, Sam?" Traci asked, motioning to Jerry with her eyes, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Fine," he said, and took a seat on the stool facing Andy and Bobby.

After twenty minutes, it all became too much. Watching Bobby touch her, and Andy laugh at his jokes was killing him. He knew what she was doing, but he couldn't help how it made him feel. He stared at them intently, narrowing his eyes willing Bobby to self combust and disappear. His mood turned even darker and he stood walking over towards them. Grabbing Andy by her arm he whispered menacingly in her ear.

"Be very careful of what you're doing McNally. Keep this up and there's no going back."

Andy pulled her arm from his grasp, ignoring looks from both Traci and Jerry, who had left his seat trying to read the situation.

"How's things been with you Bobby?" Andy asked turning away from Sam and disregarding his comments.

Bobby froze when he saw the look Sam was throwing in his direction, and stuttered when he tried to respond.

"I'm sorry Bobby, Andy is otherwise engaged right now," Sam growled, and scooped Andy by the arm dragging her off the stool and out of the Penny into the car park.

Bobby rose to say something, and the look Traci gave him, made him sit back down and remain silent.

"Have your drink Bobby," she warned, as she stared anxiously at the retreating bodies of her best friend and possible lover.

"Are you trying to make me jealous Andy? Well congratulations it's working," he admitted, as the door of the Penny swung shut behind them.

"Leave me alone Sam," she cried, walking away from him.

"No," he said walking closer towards her.

Andy stepped back, but Sam stepped towards her again, preventing there being any distance.

"Andy, I'm sorry. Please let's not fall out over this."

"I need to know I can trust you Sam," she said, relenting slightly.

"You can, you know you can," he said wiping a stray tear away from her face with his thumb.

"Do I?" she responded and began to walk away again.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"I just need some space, I need to clear my head and think."

"Andy..."

"I really don't want to talk no more Sam," she said, and began to walk away.

Sam stood watching her walk away from him, until she was a small speck in the distance. Confused, lost and completely miserable, he made his way home alone, regretting and rejoicing the day Andy McNally walked into his life.

* * *

><p>Andy began walking to nowhere in particular, all she knew was she needed some distance between her and Sam. She could feel the thoughts in her head scrambling for attention, and she needed to put them in some sort of order. She was really missing her dad, and today would have been their weekly dinner date, if he hadn't gone away. Andy wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the rest of her evening with Sam. She missed him already in those few moments apart, and missed feeling his warm embrace.<p>

Her feet seemed to have a life of their own, and not too surprisingly she found herself outside 143 Kensington Gardens once more. It had been a while since she was last there, and apparently it was a habit that she had quite not fully broken. She sat on the bench opposite just thinking, and she immediately felt a sense of calm just being there. It was strange the things she thought about when she was sitting on that bench. Strange, random thoughts that were inexplicably interlinked would spring to mind, things she hadn't thought about in years. She wished she never read that file Boyko gave her, in fact she wished she never cleaned her father's apartment, that's when it all started. But then maybe she wouldn't have got together with Sam, and that was one positive thing to come from all this mess. She smiled thinking about Sam, and frowned when she thought about him following her and her uncharacteristic behaviour tonight. Not one of her finest moments she'd readily admit, but he'd lied to her, and that was something she couldn't condone.

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you Johnny, my aunts cousins husbands sister says she knew the boss in the early days. She says that he was very different to how is now. Easy-going, friendly and a great boss to work for."<p>

Johnny looked at his friend unconvinced.

"Listen Tony, I've worked for the boss for fifteen years, in that time I have never seen him smile or trust anybody. I've never had a pay rise, he's never given me a Christmas present, or congratulated me on the birth of any of my three children, and he certainly isn't friendly."

"Well, my aunt says..."

"Your aunt's a quack! Anton Hill a kind and considerate boss? Impossible," he said without a shadow of a doubt.

The passengers of the black SUV, was stirred from their idle chatter by a sudden movement across the street.

"See Tony," Johnny said sitting upright, "I told you she'd be back."

"Lucky guess," he grumbled, handing him $100 in cash that he had just lost for betting the opposite.

"Like I told you before, no one sits there for three weeks straight without a good reason."

He stared at the brunette, long past caring what that reason could be. The reason he was employed for so long unscathed, was his ability to look the other way, and not become too concerned about any of Anton's victims. He simply followed orders, never questioning the hand that fed him and his family.

"What do you think the boss wants with her?" Tony asked anxiously, he was just getting over the last dead body he saw, and wasn't ready to face another.

"Who cares? As long as it means I don't have to keep sitting here anymore then I'm a happy man," Johnny said.

"It can't be good though…. it never is," Tony said, already feeling sorry for her. She seemed nice.

"So what are you waiting for? Call the boss!" Johnny groaned, concerned that his friend would not last long in this game if he continued to question every job they did.

Tony picked up his cell phone and pressed his speed dial. The call was answered almost immediately.

"Yes. This had better be good, I'm eating dinner," Anton said somewhat annoyed at being interrupted in his own time.

Tony feeling flustered and forgetting what the secret phrase was, mouthed to his partner for assistance. He was still new to the business and the boss made him nervous, which was completely justified after some of the things he had already witnessed and participated in, under instruction from Anton Hill. You could never be careful if the line was being tapped, especially by the cops, so the boss always had a phrase relating to a job. The boss had an innate dislike of the law, but especially the Toronto Police Force, something about getting burnt by them, one too many times.

"Someone better have a good reason for disturbing me," he barked, his voice rising with every word.

Johnny grabbed the phone quickly, knowing the severity of his bosses temper, and that Tony was not indispensable as so many others before him had come to find out.

"Mr Hill...The princess is here," he said shakily, thankful he remembered the phrase.

"Keep a watch," Anton said hurridely. "And Johnny, do whatever it takes to keep her there, I'm on my way."

"Yes boss," he said.

The line went dead.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Sorry for the delay- this chapter really should have been uploaded last week, but it needed a final proof read, which I have only just managed to do today. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait, as it's time for a few more flashbacks! Please review and as always...Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:RB isn't mine, but I'm keeping Mamma Jones and Maurice for myself!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Bitter Sweet<strong> **Memories.**

"Hey Sammy!" Jerry shouted across the Penny car park.

Sam turned around and stared at his friend blankly.

"What's going on man? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Jerry, I'm fine," Sam lied, pinching the bridge of his nose, and starting to back away.

Jerry was not convinced, and jogged towards his friend, stopping to look at him intently.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Nah, I'm good, I'm just going to go home."

Traci, who was hovering in the background, came closer and smiled at Sam uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

"Is Andy alright?" she asked nervously, scared of revealing too much. Sam shrugged his shoulders, moving away from the couple.

"We just had a misunderstanding," he said, trying to keep his voice level and his face neutral.

"Did she find out about the girlfriend?" Jerry asked, sure he knew the cause of Sam's current anger and frustration.

"What?"

"McNally. Did she find out about the girlfriend? I take it from that scene it didn't go down too well. She had her chance Sammy, you shouldn't feel bad that you have finally moved on."

Traci winced and slowly shook her head. She opened her mouth to correct him about who the girlfriend really was, but remained silent. Jerry continued without stopping for a breath.

"And flirting with that guy from 27, well that was just a little bit desperate if you ask me. This new lady is obviously making you happy Sammy, I've noticed a big change in you, don't let McNally take that away."

"Jerry baby, leave Sam alone," Traci said scowling at her boyfriend.

"I'm just saying Traci. I know she's your best friend, but it's time she realised that Sammy has moved on. I knew it would come to this," he said knowingly.

Both Sam and Traci looked at one another at a loss for what to say.

"I'm going home Jerry," Sam finally said, beginning to walk away.

"You sure you're okay buddy?" Jerry asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm fantastic Jerry. Absolutely, fucking fantastic," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

He was far from alright, but right now he needed space to think. Despite what Andy thought, he was not letting her go without a fight.

* * *

><p>Andy sat on the bench and sighed, staring at the brick red building in front of her. She didn't know whether to stay or to go, and this was her quandary. To go would be loyal to Tommy; to stay would be a massive betrayal. A betrayal to whom she was not quite sure, but possibly herself.<p>

Andy did not know what would be accomplished by sitting there, and if the last few weeks were anything to go by, then the answer would be nothing. She had no recollection of the building, despite what the file said, but knew some its secrets, her secrets were hidden within its walls too.

_The twenty minutes seemed to fly by, and really was not long enough, when she considered the thickness of the file in her hands. Andy tried to work through quickly in a logical order, memorising key points and places. November 1989... she would have been five years old and a few months at that time. The words swam before her eyes; Male Caucasian... Bullets in chest...Two Police Officers shot... Armed...143 Kensington Gardens...Drugs...Anton Hill._

_Hearing approaching footsteps, and the door handle turning she flicked the file shut, trying to remember what she had just read, so she could think about it later when she was alone._

_"Officer McNally," Boyko greeted as he re-entered his office._

_"Sir," she replied, her breathing heavy._

_Boyko immediately took the file and placed in back in his drawer._

_"It was good to see you again," he said smiling, "give my regards to Tommy when you next speak to him," he said, sitting down at his desk._

_Thanking him, Andy rose to leave. She knew that he had gone way beyond expectations in what he did, but she still had a few more questions. Andy hesitated before opening the door, her hands shaking. This would probably be her only chance to ask, she doubted this opportunity would ever present itself again._

_"Officer McNally, is there anything else?" Boyko asked, sensing her reluctancy to leave._

_"How can you be so sure?" Andy said it so quickly, that she wasn't even sure that she had uttered the words herself._

_"Be sure about what?" he asked._

_"That he was a drug dealer," she turned around to face him. "How can you be so sure that he was a drug dealer? I mean... there was no drugs found on him or in the building," she added in almost a whisper._

_Boyko sighed heavily, but motioned for her to continue. He began to question whether it was wise to let her see that file. It was supposed to give her closure, not encourage more questions. He conceded that these questions would still give her closure if he answered them appropriately._

_"He shot at two police officers."_

_"Yes I know sir, but..."_

_"But what?"_

_"It just seems that most of the evidence is circumstantial."_

_Bokyo raised his eyebrows in total disbelief, he clearly was not answering her questions with enough firmness._

_"Circumstantial?" he questioned._

_Andy nodded hesitantly._

_"Officer McNally..." his tone was very serious._

_Andy stared at him, wanting to look away from his glare but unable to._

_"Think like a cop and look at the facts of the case. I accept that we will never fully know what happened that night, but there are some things that we can be sure of. Your father shot at two police officers, killing one. The shooting took place in a building owned by Anton Hill. He had the keys to the building in his pocket, as well as a few thousand dollars in cash. Despite Hill's denial, I think it would be fair to say that your father worked for him."_

_"Maybe, he worked for Anton Hill, but.." she chewed her bottom lip nervously, not quite sure what to say._

_"If he worked for Anton Hill, what do you think he was doing? Baking cookies? Come on Officer McNally, you are smarter than this!"_

_"But Hill always works alone. Sam told me...I mean Officer Swarek told me that he works alone, which is why he is so notoriously hard to crack. He does all his deals personally, only uses the workers for moving stock and distributing. Giving a worker a key to his building where a drug deal was taking place, just feels a little off."_

_"Let's move on from this," Boyko said a little more softly, he could see what she was doing. "Stop looking for what's not there. It's all in the past, and there will be hundreds more men like your father, men whose names Hill will have forgotten the moment they stop being useful. These men are a dime a dozen who Hill has no allegiance to, who are at the bottom of the foodchain, men who are not important. Focus on the fact that we will put Anton Hill behind bars one day. We'll get justice for men like your father, we will make Hill accountable."_

* * *

><p><strong>"<strong>What did the boss say?" Tony asked, holding his breath and anticipating the worse.

"Just to keep her there," Johnny replied casually, fiddling with the dial on the car radio.

"So what we gonna do? Go and grab her?" Tony asked excitedly, grabbing the handle of the door to exit.

"No," Johnny said roughly pulling him back by the jacket. "We wait for the boss. If she moves, then we move. Got it?" he said sitting back in the seat. He really didn't need any unnecessary aggravation.

"What else did the boss say?"

"Nothing Tony. Just relax, don't make things any harder than they have to be."

"But..."

"No buts Tony. She hasn't moved a muscle since she's arrived, and if we get lucky, she'll be in the exact same position and spot when the boss arrives. Then, and only on my say so do we make our move."

"Okay. But how long is he gonna be? Who's driving him here?" Tony asked, not fully listening to what Johnny was saying.

Johnny sighed, silently willing him to shut up. The boss hated mindless chatter and fired several workers because of it, and after years of working with him, Johnny had acquired the same dislike. He'd have to talk to Tony, and tell him to reign in the nervous energy. It would only get him into trouble.

"Tony, stop talking," Johnny groaned.

"Yeah, sorry Johnny. I just don't want to make any mistakes."

"Just follow my lead and you won't," he said firmly, finally silencing him and putting an end to their conversation.

* * *

><p>The traffic was heaving that time of night and Anton cursed out loud. He couldn't risk waiting for a driver when she was there, so he chose to drive himself. A rarity, an oddity and a highly unlikely occurrence, but so was tonight. He cursed again when the traffic lights turned red once more for the fourth time, and he had barely moved 100 metres. Anton Hill wasn't nervous, he rarely was and it was his fearlessness that had got him this far. He was on a mission tonight that had taken him many years to reach, but it had to be done right so not to scare her away. Johnny was watching the girl, which brought him immense relief. He was probably his longest serving and surviving employee, and he trusted him enough not to mess things up.<p>

He hadn't considered what would happen when they met; he never thought it would actually happen; he never wanted it to happen for a long time. Besides he never was one to over analyse things that much. Act now, think later. It had always worked for him...most of the time. Anton left the over thinking to Maurice, and since there was no Maurice, there had been very little thinking in a long time.

It brought back a lot of memories being on this side of town, and with the exception of tonight he would never willingly go there. Although he still had the restaurant, thankfully it was a good distance from this place. Anton had enough staff to do his dirty work for him, so had managed to avoid ever being there, but he still had strong emotional ties with the place. It was where he had grown up, went to school, had his first kiss, fell out with Bella for good, and cried his last tears. Watching the traffic lights change to red for the fifth time, he lit a cigar and in a rare moment of sentimentality, allowed his mind to wander.

_"This is ridiculous!" Anton huffed, staring down at the little girl, and then back to his friend. 'There's nothing open around here.'_

_"Andy needs to use the wash room. She says she cannot hold it much longer," Maurice answered breathlessly in explanation, knowing full well from the body language that Anton was annoyed._

_"What did you expect Maurice, letting her drink all that orange juice?" he complained._

_Anton looked at him as if it was the most idiotic thing he had ever done. Maurice shrugged his shoulders, realising it wasn't the smartest move, but Andy was thirsty, and he could hardly say no to her._

_"Daddy I have to pee real bad," she said tugging at Maurice's sleeve._

_"I know princess," he said gently, "your Uncle Anton and I are trying to find somewhere for you to go, just hold on. Please," he pleaded softly._

_They kept walking around for several more minutes, until they eventually found a small diner and Maurice took his daughter inside to use their facilities, while Anton remained outside. Several minutes and two cigarettes later, Anton was growing impatient waiting, and walked into the wash room._

_"We can't be late in meeting Jimmy and the supplier," Anton hissed at Maurice, "it took him weeks to set this up. We need to get back to the warehouse soon, and get everything ready."_

_"Yes, I know," Maurice replied, "but if Andy needs to go, she needs to go. Once she's done we will all go to the meeting, there's still enough time," he said calmly, shoving his hands in his pockets._

_"About that man...it isn't cool having the kid around every time we do a deal. People won't take us serious. How are we gonna make it to the next level with a kid in tow?"_

_"Andy stays with me, with us," Maurice said firmly, daring Anton to suggest otherwise._

_Andy came out of the cubicle and smiled awkwardly at the two men as she adjusted her skirt, breaking the tension that was thick in the air._

_"Lave tes mains," Maurice said smiling softly, lifting her up so she could wash her hands at the sink. _

_Anton stared at the scene shaking his head in disbelief. Maurice was going soft, walking around with his kid chained to him as if she were precious cargo. So fine, the Flanagan brothers threatened to harm her and Bella if they saw them or their crew dealing in their turf again, but that was almost two years ago. Anton couldn't even convince Maurice to hire a nanny, and he had cut all ties with Bella, saying the kid was safer with him. That was the only part of the whole kid fiasco that he agreed with._

_He watched father and daughter talk about whatever it was that fathers and daughters talk about, while he considered their next move. If they could get a deal with the new suppliers, it would get them one step closer to the notorious Mamma Jones. Word on the street was that she was looking to hang up her stockings and pass the torch of drug trafficking dominance to a new generation. She'd been in game a long time, but was getting old and wanted to retire. However, Mamma Jones was old school, a dealer with a conscience, and was interviewing potential candidates for the role. As ridiculous as it sounded, her reputation was legendary, and without her seal of approval, no serious buyer would come near you, even if the stuff was going free. Her clientèle made her business very lucrative; she wasn't your average on the streets drug dealer, Mamma Jones was in a class on her own. After her husband died several years ago she took sole control of their vast empire, but if she was stepping down then Anton wanted a big piece of that pie, if not the whole damn thing. He would be bigger than Mamma Jones one day, he felt that for sure. Anton Hill would be the name on everyone's lips, he would be unstoppable._

_"So we're going to see your friend's first daddy?" Andy asked, as Maurice dried her hands and discarded the paper hand towel._

_"Yes, princess, Uncle Jimmy and his friend. Remember you need to behave and let daddy and Uncle Anton talk to them. Once we're done, we'll go and get lunch," he said smoothing her hair from her face._

_"Hot dogs?" she asked._

_"Yes, sweetie with lots of ketchup."_

_Anton rolled his eyes in exasperation._

_"You can't keep giving her hot dogs. Kids need a varied diet full of vegetables; she's probably deficient in vitamins. Let's go to Giuseppe's for pizza instead."_

_Andy pulled a face, and both her and Maurice shook their head, disapproving of his lunch time selection. Anton rolled his eyes once more and groaned at the pair of them. If he never saw a hot dog again it would still be too soon._

_"She does have a varied diet," Maurice said defensively, buttoning her coat. "She just likes hot dogs that's all, and everyone likes hot dogs don't they chérie?" he said tickling Andy and she giggled._

_Anton grunted, and shook his head, almost embarassed by the situation he had got himself into. Andy looked up at Anton with her large brown eyes and smiled. He tried to frown, but pulled her pigtails instead causing her to laugh, and although he put up a valiant resistance, found himself smiling back._

_"Uncle Anton, you can share my hot dog with me if you want," she said smiling innocently. _

_She automatically slipped one hand into his, the other into her father's, as they left the diner. Anton shook his head irritated by the situation, but held on to her hand regardless as she skipped along between the two men._

_"Uncle Anton, will you stay and read me a story tonight? I have a new book," she asked smiling once more. "It's called the Very Hungry Caterpillar."_

_"It's probably hungry because all it ate was hotdogs," Anton grumbled sarcastically._

_Maurice gave him a filthy look, and shook his head._

_"Yeah, sure thing," he said gruffly looking down at her. Anton couldn't believe he got suckered into reading her another story, he could never tell the kid no. It always took so damn long to finish a story too, as she always asked so many questions, most of them irrelevant. Stupid kid. Stupid...sweet...cute...lovable kid._

_"What?" he grumbled, when he saw Maurice smile giving him a knowing look._

_"Nothing man. Let's just get this done, so we can get the _mademoiselle _her hot dogs"_

_"With lots of ketchup," Andy reminded._

_"Oui, that's right, with lots of ketchup."_

_Anton mumbled something unintelligible, but kept a firm grip of the little girl's hand as the trio walked briskly for several more minutes. They crossed a busy road, and once certain they were not being followed, entered a side street, turning left into Kensington Gardens._

* * *

><p>Andy sighed, watching the buildings that surrounded her, some appeared to be very luxurious with beautiful gardens and marble statues. Apparently the area used to be on the wrong side of town. High levels of crime, high immigration levels and derelict buildings made it an undesirable area, fit only for the undesirable. It had now become the right part of town, after millions of dollars were invested in its redevelopment. Expensive restaurants, wine bars and luxury apartments, made this a sought after area, and many high profile people had properties there. This is why 143 Kensington Gardens stood out amongst the other buildings, it looked unloved and abandoned, basically everything she was. Sam had made all that change, moving her status to something more positive. Sam. She smiled thinking about him, and shook her head thinking once more about tonight. She knew she had taken things too far and had said and done some hurtful things to him, but she was hurt and angry too. Now all that anger had disappeared and all that was left were loneliness and confusion. Andy didn't regret letting Sam know how she felt, she couldn't just pretend that everything was fine when it clearly was not. She remembered what keeping things bottled up inside did to her in the past, so letting it out was the only option. Her only regret was the way in which she did it.<p>

She picked up her cell phone, and dialled Sam's number. Hopefully he'd pick her up and they could go home together, talk and work this mess out. Andy couldn't lose him, not when she had just found him. Sam made her happy, and apart from their setback tonight, she hoped she made him happy too. Just being friends with Sam was no longer an option, she didn't think it was possible to go back to the way things were before. She didn't want to go back to the way things were before.

There was no answer and after several rings the call went through to his answer phone.

"Hey Sam, it's me Andy...I'm sorry, really sorry. I don't want to fight with you. I want to come back home so we can talk. Can you please come and get me? it's freezing outside. I'm at the usual place... the bench."

She sighed feeling happy that she had apologised, and she would do so again when she saw him. Wrapping her arms around her body she waited, allowing herself to get lost in her thoughts once more.

_"How is she?" Tommy asked, not bothering to remove his coat as he entered the kitchen._

_He went and greeted his wife with a kiss, waiting for a response._

_"Sophia, what happened?"_

_"Ma?" he asked when Sophia remained silent. "Will somebody tell me what happened?"_

_"Nothing Tommy," Margaret said leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek, narrowing her eyes at her daughter in law as she did so._

_"Sophia?" he asked again, not convinced by his mother's words._

_Sophia looked towards Margaret, and back towards her husband._

_"Andy was just a bit emotional today. That's to be expected right? The social worker said it was normal."_

_"They did say it should be expected," Margaret agreed, in the rare occasions she sided with Sophia. "She's still adjusting."_

_"It's been almost a year ma, and she's been fine up until now. What happened?"_

_"She just started crying. She said she missed her dad and wanted to see him..."_

_Tommy took a deep breath in, trying to compose himself._

_"And?"_

_"Andy said she saw her uncle today, but he wouldn't talk to her. She asked me if she had been bad, that she knows how to be a good girl. She wasn't making much sense Tommy; she must have had a bad dream."_

_Tommy ran his hand through his hair and pondered over his wife's words. His mother was unusually quiet, which he knew from past experience meant there was more to the story than he was being told._

_"Where did you go?" he asked._

_"Just to by some groceries and then straight back here."_

_"She's probably just tired," Margaret added. "Don't make a mountain out of a mole hill Tommy," she said reassuringly, handing him a cup of tea._

_She didn't admit to her son that it wasn't the first time this had happened. Andy was tetchy and restless a few weeks earlier and suddenly started crying for no apparent reason as they walked home from the park. She had said she wanted her daddy, and when Margaret said that Tommy would be home from work later, Andy said that she wanted her other daddy which took Margaret by surprise. It was the first time in almost a year that she made any reference to her old life._

_"So what should we do?"_

_"Let's just leave it. She'll forget about it sooner or later. No point in dragging up the past," Margaret said, although she wasn't completely convinced._

_"I agree with Margaret," Sophia said begrudgingly._

_"So if she brings up her father or anything like that again, we just disregard it?" Tommy asked needing clarification, he really didn't have a clue what to do. _

_"Yes, of course we disregard it," Sophia said. She sat browsing through a home ware magazine, apparently losing interest in the discussion._

_"I'm not so sure," Margaret said somewhat undecided, "maybe we should question her and encourage her to talk about it."_

_"If she doesn't get the chance to talk about it, then it will just go away. I'll buy her a new doll, or a new dress, it will help her forget about today," Sophia said as an addendum to her solution._

_Tommy looked at his mother for guidance, who slowly shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. Margaret wasn't completely convinced, but Andy was not her child. She didn't want to be seen as interfering so she remained quiet, although she did not think this would be the last time they would be having this discussion._

Andy stared at the display on her cell phone willing Sam to ring her back. She had already sent him a text message so waited patiently. She did not have any money on her to take the bus, and the long walk home had long since lost its appeal. Confident that Sam would return her call, she decided to wait a little longer before making a move.

* * *

><p><em>"Gentleman," Mamma Jones, said pleasantly. "The Flanagan brothers have made a very good case for me to allow them to work in my area, you two on the other hand...well to put it nicely, I've never heard of you before."<em>

_She gestured for them to take a seat, eyeing them carefully, whilst stroking a small dog on her lap. Andy caught sight of it and with excited wide eyes ran towards the dog until Maurice tugged her back, silently reminding her to behave. Her bottom lip quivered, she just wanted to pet the cute doggie._

_"What is this we have here?" she said noticing Andy standing in the corner. She scrutinised the little girl with her heavily made up eyes of bright blue eye shadow and blackened eyelashes._

_"Come here little one," she cooed._

_Andy stepped closer, somewhat cautiously._

_"Hello," she said smiling, admiring how adorable she was. "What's your name?" she asked._

_"Andy," she said shyly._

_"Is she yours?" she asked Anton._

_"No she's his," he said gruffly, pointing his thumb towards Maurice, sure that the kid had single-handedly ruined any chance of success today._

_"She's beautiful," Mamma Jones said, in almost a trance. _

_"You're beautiful too," Andy said easily making Mamma Jones beam with delight._

_"Is this your angle gentlemen, bringing in a small child to charm an old lady?" she asked keeping her eyes on Andy. "Because if it is, I like it."_

_Mamma Jones lifted the lid on a little glass bowl that was full of individually wrapped chocolates._

_"Have one," she offered, pushing the bowl towards Andy._

_Andy looked at her father and he nodded his approval. She selected one in a pink foil wrapper, which she undid and popped it in her mouth. It was a soft centre, and she closed her eyes as the strawberry filling oozed on to her tongue. Mamma Jones took another one and put it in Andy's pocket._

_"For later," she whispered turning her attention back to the two men. She noticed the shorter and broader of the two men was staring around the room, taking it all in. She could smell the hunger in him from miles away; he wanted this badly, possibly too badly. Whilst she accepted she dealt with illegal drugs, she didn't get her name for no reason and took her responsibilities seriously. She was nicknamed mamma due to her mothering nature, and prided herself in being a business woman with integrity. All her staff were well looked after, had sick pay and paid holiday leave, which was non-existent in the business. She personally made sure her product was the best quality available, knew her craft well and would not sale any old product that resembled a drug on the street like some others she knew just to make a quick buck. This was why she was extremely successful and had a loyal workforce who would rather face a lengthy prison sentence than rat her out to the cops. Whenever this happened their families were well looked after whilst the incarcerated did their time. In her thirty five years in the game she had never once been arrested or questioned, which came as no surprise as some of her clients were noted members of the police force and legal services. Whilst she was bowing out of the business, she still needed to ensure her successor or successors held the same high standards. The Flanagan brothers were well established as low level drug dealers and were the most potential candidates so far, although she did find them somewhat uncouth and quite cliché in their appearance and attitude. She wanted her successor to be strong and charismatic, and not perpetuating the stereotype of drug dealership one saw on the television and press. Mamma Jones was a well educated woman, articulate and highly intelligent._

_She then focussed her attention on the other man who had the small child. He was tall and slim, extremely handsome with jet black hair. There was subtle French tilt in his voice, which was deep yet smooth. He held her gaze with the most beautiful chocolate drop brown eyes she had ever seen on a man, and although she was probably more than twice his age he stirred something inside of her that was pleasant. It was interesting that he was not so fixated with his surroundings as his partner. He was more concerned with his daughter who he glanced at every so often, and her whom he smiled at lovingly, before he schooled his features and became serious again. She found him to be charming and his manners impeccable, and of course extremely easy on the eye which would serve him well when she thought of the number of rich, yet bored housewives she had on her books. Mamma Jones was good at reading people, and although she knew he wanted to be part of the deal, she didn't feel that same hunger, his partner was emitting. She had yet to decide, whether that was a good or bad thing. Mamma Jones was always one to speak her mind, and did not suffer fools lightly. If these two were not suitable she had no qualms in sending them on their way._

_"So tell me gentleman, do you have a venue?" she asked still staring at Maurice intently, unable to tear her eyes away from him._

_"Yes," Anton answered, a warehouse on the other side of town._

_"And you sure you can supply? My customers are very demanding, and very specific about quantities, packaging and of course quality. They expect the best; my reputation is on the line if you do not deliver. How can I assure them all their individual requirements will be met?"_

_Anton began to answer giving a detailed plan of how they would do this, their suppliers and turnaround time. He was definitely good, was thorough and knew his stuff, she acknowledged. Mamma Jones nodded, all the while switching her attention from Maurice to Andy, who was now playing with her little dog on the floor._

_"How old is she?" Mamma Jones asked, cutting Anton off mid sentence._

_"Four," Maurice answered, instinctively stepping closer to her side._

_"My husband and I tried for years, but were never successful," she said wistfully, smiling softly at the little girl as she hugged and kissed the dog. "Maybe then, I'd have an heir to my empire, and we would not be having this discussion," she said thoughtfully clasping her hands on her lap. "Cherish her, she truly is a blessing."_

_"Yes, madam I know. C'est vrai... she really is the best thing to have happened to me."_

_Mamma Jones smiled and nodded, approving of his answer._

_"Right gentleman, I think I've seen enough," she said rising to her feet, and picking up her dog, who whimpered at being taken away from his new playmate._

_"I haven't had a chance to tell you about how we work," Anton jumped in. He didn't want to roll over at let the Flanagan brothers take over another territory, he wanted this badly. _

_"Save it," she said holding up her jewel encrusted hand._

_"It's yours. Well this one client anyway. If this goes well, I will put more work in your direction. My people will contact you in due course. Just make sure your ready to go. This will mean you are mixing with the big boys now, screw up and you're dead."_

Anton was suddenly irritated. He didn't like the way he was feeling which was a mixture of anger and deep sadness. Holding on to the anger, he scolded himself, focussing his mind back to the job at hand. He refused to wait any longer, and drove straight through the red light at high speed. He was oblivious to the shouting and horns blaring from the other drivers as he passed a busy intersection. Anton Hill had business to take care of, and he needed to take care of it right now.

* * *

><p>"I need to take a leak," Johnny said, opening the door of the car<em>. <em>Glancing at his watch, he expected the boss anytime soon and he needed to be ready. He walked several hundred metres away to a shrub of bushes and unzipped his fly, taking one last look at Tony and the brunette. Satisfied all was well; he turned away, closing his eyes and enjoying the release from several large cups of coffee. He hoped the boss would be there soon, he was tired of these long stakeouts and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with his wife, and have breakfast with his family in the morning.

He pondered briefly on the brunette wondering what she had done to upset the boss. She seemed too young to have double-crossed him, and didn't look like a dealer. He considered that she was the girlfriend or wife of somebody who had upset him. The boss always said that sometimes the best way to make a person really suffer is to kill the one they love. He didn't know all of his business associates, the boss kept that private. He shook his head, not wanting to analyse the situation too much. If all went well, he should be home at a reasonable time tonight, as long as there wasn't a body to dispose of.

Andy was getting cold and decided to leave. She realised in all the madness, Sam probably never took his phone, and she could be waiting a while before he returned home, retrieve his message and come back again to collect her. She rose to her feet, and pulling her coat tightly around her, started walking to make her way back to his house.

Tony startled by her sudden movement, clambered clumsily out of the car and drew his gun. Forgetting everything he had been told earlier he began to run towards her, determined to stop her from leaving by any means necessary. The slamming of the car door, and hurried footsteps made Johnny turn around abruptly, and his eyes grew wide when he saw Tony running with a loaded gun in his hand towards the brunette.

"Tony wait!" he shouted.

Tony was high on a combination of adrenaline, and some warped idea of proving himself to the boss, Johnny and the other guys who made fun of him. If he could just keep her there then the boss would be pleased with him. He picked up speed and Johnny snapping out of his initial shock hurriedly fixed himself and was on his heels. The brunette hadn't seen him yet, and if Johnny could get there before Tony did, then nothing should go wrong. Johnny had a bad feeling, and he knew it had to stop Tony fast.

"Tony!" he hissed again, drawing his own gun and following in hot pursuit.

* * *

><p>Andy was in her own thoughts, thinking about what she needed to say to Sam to make things right between them again. She considered cooking another meal and just talking, apologise for the things she said and see if they could take things forwards. The thought of him not being with her filled her with panic, and a wave of nausea suddenly rushed over her. She stopped by a tree, leaning against its trunk for support while taking several deep breaths to compose herself. She needed Sam, and dialled his number once more, hoping that he had finally reached home.<p>

Tony closed the distance between the them, and before Andy was able to connect the call she heard voices and shouting. Just as Andy realised the sounds were directly behind her, she turned quickly, startled by a man raising his arm high above his head. She managed to make out the glint of a metal object in his hand as it made contact with her skull. The pain was both sudden and excruciating, causing her to cry out loud.

The cellphone fell from her hand, and everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN- Thanks for the reviews, they really keep me going, especially when my mind is working overdrive, analysing the personalities of each character. Please leave a comment if you are enjoying this, especially those who have alerted and favorited, yet remain silent! **

**However, most importantly...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Together Again.<strong>

"She's dead. You've killed her!" Johnny screamed.

"I..." Tony looked scared, the realisation of what he had done, was suddenly becoming very real.

"Why didn't you listen to me? Why would you do this?" Johnny asked in a calm voice that did not come close to matching his actual level of anxiety.

They both looked down at the brunettes lifeless body, her eyes closed and head slumped to one side. The blood that was on her face was forming a puddle in her ear, before it trickled down into the crisp snow, turning it a sickly shade of pink. Groaning loudly, Johnny turned to face Tony, grabbing him roughly by the shirt and shaking him hard.

"I am not taking the rap for this, do you hear me? You can tell the boss that this was all you," he snarled, looking at Tony with a mixture of annoyance and disdain.

Johnny let Tony go, causing him to stumble backwards almost tripping over his own two feet. Johnny started pacing up and down and pulled his cellphone from his pocket. He stared at it briefly, biting the inside of his cheek as he quickly deliberated, before nodding to himself in silent confirmation.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked quietly, still clutching his gun close to his chest like some sort of comfort blanket.

"Calling the boss."

"What you gonna tell him?"

"What do you want me to tell him Tony? The truth of course!"

Johnny's fingers felt numb from the cold, and had some difficulty pressing its buttons, but the delay caused him to slow down his rapidly beating heart. Things were bad, real bad. Finding the number he needed, he took a long look at Tony and shook his head in disbelief. He probably had to be one of the stupidest, if not the stupidest person he had ever had to work with, and he had worked with a lot of stupid people over the years. Maybe it was a pre-requisite of the job. Rather than asking the usual questions at an interview, maybe the only thing the boss asked was '_How stupid are you?'_ That would make sense. Most definitely.

"Don't look at me like that Johnny," Tony almost pleaded, devastated by the all too familiar look in his eyes. "I didn't know what else to do."

"I told you what to do. I specifically told you what not to do. But no, you knew better. How is that working out for you Tony?" Johnny spat.

"The boss, he'll be happy right? It's not like he wasn't going to kill her anyway," Tony rationlised with a fake certainty that wasn't fooling either of them.

"Tony, when are you going to get this into your thick skull?" Johnny questioned, tapping the phone against his head to emphasise the point. "The boss isn't looking for heroes and he doesn't want or need to be impressed. You won't ever be employee of the month in this job. Go work in fucking McDonald's if that's what you are looking for. He wants people to follow his instructions, no questions asked. Yeah, he may have killed her in the end but the fact is he wanted her alive. If he wanted us to kill her before he got here then he would have said. So however you want to dress it up you've failed, and you know how the boss feels about failing."

Johnny stopped to take a large breath, knowing that he too would form part of that failure in the bosses eyes. He'd have to admit his mistake, not talk too much, and hopefully...just hopefully he'd get to see his family again, and Tony would live to talk another day.

"Please...you gotta say something Johnny, he'll listen to you," Tony said in a panicked voice as he saw the lights of a car approaching, and stop by their black SUV. The gun felt slippery in his shaking hands, and wiping them on his trouser legs, he clutched the gun again once more.

"Dammit Tony...put the gun away, and don't move!" Johnny commanded, steadily growing more irate. He was desperate for a cigarette, having just recently given up. He had promised his wife he would stop smoking, as she was concerned it was bad for his health. This job was bad for his health, and would probably kill him long before the cigarettes did. Running a hand through his prematurely greying hair, Johnny made his way over towards the parked car. Tony remained where he was, watching the two men speak briefly, barely saying a dozen words between the two of them. They both looked in his direction, and Tony gulped desperately wanting to run yet remaining firmly rooted to the spot.

Anton swore loudly throwing his cigar onto the ground in rage. He made his way over towards Tony, bypassing his protests of innocence and headed straight to Andy. He knelt down, brushing the hair away that had fallen into her face and simply stared. His eyes darted over her features till it rested on the deep gash on her forehead and its slow but steady stream of blood. Anton remained perfectly still, and if it were not for the heat leaving his mouth, causing puffs of hot air to escape, anyone would have thought he was carved from stone. Johnny closed his eyes, breathing steady, knowing all to well that this was the calm before the storm. He glanced towards Tony who continued to ramble, blaming everything from the weather and Johnny's call of nature as to why the female was lying on the ground, and returned his gaze back to his boss. Anton rolled his shoulders forwards trying to relieve some of his tension, a sure sign of his irritation with the current situation.

"Shut up Tony," Johnny said uneasily, noticing the ominous flexing of Anton's neck from left to right, but Tony continued, naively thinking his silence was a positive sign and that the boss was concerned with his plight. "Shut up Tony," Johnny said again, his voice was strained and low, but Tony continued talking regardless.

Anton put his hand into the inside breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a handgun. He turned towards the offensive noise and without hesitation pulled the trigger, shooting Tony twice in the chest. He grunted, falling into a heap on to the snow covered ground gasping for breath, before everything went silent.

"He talks too much," was all Anton said, before placing the weapon back in his pocket, rising to his feet and dusting the snow from his knees.

* * *

><p>Andy began to stir, her moaning causing the two men to whip their heads around in surprise. Anton crouched down once more, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection brushed his rough hand across the cheek.<p>

"Shhh," he said gently, "It's alright, It's alright," he chanted softly several times, drawing small circles on her cheekbone with his thumb.

Johnny looked at him in amazement, yet still having the sense to keep any comments to himself and remain completely silent. The boss looked strange, there was a funny expression on his face akin to smiling, but not quite. It was thoughtful, it was serene. The boss looked serene.

Andy moaned some more, whimpering and mumbling at the same time.

"Shhh kid, everything is alright. Don't worry kid, everything will be alright."

Her eyes which had remained firmly closed throughout twitched, but did not open.

Andy was feeling extremely tired, her eyelids felt so heavy as if they were glued shut and there was a sharp pain in her head. She could hear a voice that seemed so close but far away telling her everything would be alright, and she believed it. It sounded so strange, yet so familiar and comforting at the same time.

"Uncle Anton," she whispered half smiling, still unable to open her eyes. She was confused as to why she would say such a thing, yet it seemed like the only possible thing to say. She felt a warm hand spread its fingers on her cheek before she lost consciousness again for the second time.

"Hey kid. Wake up..." Anton stopped talking, when he heard the engine, then saw the bright lights of a truck approaching and park outside his warehouse.

"Andy!" the person cried as they exited the vehicle, "I'm here, where are you?"

Both men looked up at the approaching figure and froze.

"Andy!" the voice said again, walking in their direction as her cellphone began to ring.

"Boss, we have to go now, there isn't time to clean up" Johnny said calmly, pulling Anton to his feet and backing him away towards their vehicles.

Anton staggered to his feet, and glanced at Andy one last time, looking torn. He climbed into his car and drove off into the night, feeling a sense of deja vu. Satisfied that he had left, Johnny moved quickly, pulling all items out of Tony's pockets, but purposely leaving the gun behind. Picking up the bosses half smoked cigar from the ground close by, he looked around once more, jumped into the SUV and drove off in the opposite direction. '_Employee of the month...I should be employee of the fucking year Johnny thought to himself annoyingly.'_

Sam had a bad feeling in his gut. He could see figures in the distance, and was sure he could hear the faint ring of a cellphone. He began to walk concentrating on the two figures, as they parted company and climbed into their respective vehicles. It was too dark to make out any details, and he began to run in their direction, suddenly aware that Andy could be in trouble. He called out her name again, dialling her cellphone one more time. This time the ring was louder and he knew she was there or her phone was at the very least. As he picked up his pace, a black SUV sped past him, causing him to think of his sister Sarah and run at high speed frantic with worry. Running towards where he had seen the hunched figures he saw Andy, and his eyes immediately filled with horror.

"Andy, sweetheart," he managed to say, watching her with eyes full of tears.

Her lips looked blue and her hair covered with soft snowflakes. He ran his eyes over her body looking for signs of anything untoward but saw nothing. Pulling the scarf from around his neck he applied pressure to her wound, sickened when it appeared to soak up the red liquid frighteningly with ease. His hands were bloody, and wiping his hand across his sweaty brow, caused her blood to smear across his face.

"Andy, stay with me," he begged. "I got your message...I'm sorry too, I don't want to fight with you either."

With one hand he pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance. Afterwards he dialled Oliver's number, not entirely sure what he said to his friend, but within a short space of time, he was there by his side just as the ambulance was arriving along with several police vehicles. Thankful they were in another division he did not recognise any of the officers as they began to tape off the area.

He felt Oliver's arms hold him back when he was about to climb into the ambulance.

"I think you'd be better coming with me Sammy," he said wisely. "Calm yourself down and we'll follow in my car. I'll send Epstein to pick up your truck later."

Sam nodded, numb and completely unaware he was crying. Right now, Oliver didn't think he would care even if he did realise. All he had on his mind was Andy McNally.

"It will be alright brother, McNally is a fighter," he said holding back his own tears. He always had a soft spot for Andy and they got on well.

"It's all my fault Olly, we had a fight and I let her walk away from me. I should have never let her walk away."

"She's alive Sammy, let's just focus on that," he said firmly. "Everything else can wait."

Oliver placed his hand gently on his friends shoulder and with a gentle tug, led Sam to his car.

* * *

><p>The next few days were a blur of people, flowers and well wishes. Sam and Traci took it in turns sitting with Andy, but with having to look after Leo and working, Sam took the brunt of it. Not that he was complaining, and would constantly ring Traci when he wasn't there personally to see how Andy was doing. He had requested time of work, keeping vigil by her bedside. Andy's room was a constant stream of visitors mainly detectives from 21 eagerly waiting for a statement and her friends from 15 checking that she was okay. Even Donovan Boyd made several fleeting visits under the guise of visiting Andy, but appeared irritated every time he discovered she was still unconscious. The detectives had several theories, but were stumped at the weapon which caused the death of their 'John Doe' who was yet to be formally identified. Sam's own statement was unable to give them any more information than what they had already pieced together themselves. He needed Andy to wake up just as much as they did, to find out what really happened, but most importantly because he just missed having her around.<p>

Sam barely left Andy's side, afraid to leave her alone. Oliver knew his friend well, and although Sam was a man of few words his extreme silence was worrying. Oliver would sit with Sam bringing him plates of food from Zoe who was concerned that he wasn't eating properly. She was right.

"Sammy, the doc says she's going to be fine," his friend said reassuringly, watching the permanent worry lines etched on his face.

"I know but I just want to be here when she wakes up," he admitted, not once taking his eyes off her.

Sam had long since stopped caring what anyone else thought, and unashamedly held her hand, only letting go when a doctor or nurse entered the room to check her vitals. No one ever questioned his permanent residence in her room, and Chris or Dov who were both currently working the night shift would always bring him a cup of coffee and a pastry, knowing he didn't want to leave her side. They too had noticed how tactile Sam was with Andy, but neither were brave enough to bring the subject up. Not to his face at least, anyway. Sam had a steady fan club growing amongst the female hospital night staff, who found his dedication and obvious love for the 'sleeping beauty' romantic.

"You and Andy..." Oliver said carefully, clearing his throat.

"Yeah," was all Sam said, nodding slowly.

"Is it serious?" he asked.

Sam's jaw tightened, but remained silent, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

"Yeah..." he whispered in a shaky voice that was filled with emotion, "...it's pretty serious."

Oliver nodded, approving whole heartily at his unexpected revelation.

He left soon afterwards, leaving Sam alone to once again contemplate how things were left between him and Andy. He sat thinking for an infinite amount of time before his thoughts were interrupted by a movement in his hands. Looking down and removing his hand from Andy's, Sam saw her flex and relax her fingers several times. She slowly opened her eyes squinting at the harshness of the bright lights of the room.

"Andy," Sam whispered, holding her hand tightly, afraid to let her go.

"Sam," she responded, closing her eyes momentarily, and opening them once more.

"How you feeling?" he asked, sitting at the edge of her bed, watching her features closely which was the best way to gage how she really was.

"Okay... I think" she revealed, turning slightly to look at him.

"You really had me worried there," he said smiling so warmly, it made the edge of his eyes crinkle.

Andy smiled back.

"I'm really pleased to see you," she croaked, letting out a few small coughs.

"Yeah?" he asked, still a little unsure of himself.

Standing up and pouring her a cup water, he gently held her head forwards allowing her to drink.

"Yes," she said a little more clearly afterwards. "Definitely."

They stared at one another, holding one another's gaze, conveying with their eyes what they couldn't express in words.

"I'm sorry Sam, I shouldn't have said those things. I didn't mean them. I was just upset and hurt."

"I know Andy, I know. I'm sorry too. I just worry about you, and when I'm focussed I just forget about everything else." He could feel his voice giving away, and he cleared his throat trying to compose himself. "You have to know Andy, I only did what I did because I was worried about you."

Andy nodded, and leant into his hand which he had placed on her cheek, and covering it with her own. They sat this way for a few moments, before Sam broke the silence.

"Here..." he said, standing and digging one hand into his jeans pocket, pulling out her locket. 'I think this belongs to you.'

"You fixed it!" she said teary eyed.

She tipped her head forward allowing Sam to put the chain around her neck and fasten it.

"I'm sorry about that too Sam, this really is the nicest thing anybody has ever given me."

Sam shrugged his shoulders in response, afraid to say too much as his emotions were on a rollercoaster ride. Andy gripped his hand, waiting for him to look at her once more.

"When did you find the time to fix it?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He started to twiddle with her wrist band, willing the lump in his throat to disappear and took a few deep breaths before he spoke.

"You've been unconscious for three days Andy, I had a bit of time on my hands," he said, trying to conceal the wavering in his voice.

"Three days?" she asked, appearing genuinely surprise. "What happened Sam?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to answer that. The detectives from 21 have been hanging around ever since to take your statement. Although it wasn't in our division, they're happy for one of ours to do it, a familiar face might help you remember more. It will probably be Jerry or Callaghan..." Andy screwed up her face at the mention of Luke.

"But..." Sam added, "I tried to push for it to be Jerry. They seem to think it was a botched robbery."

Andy remained silent, furrowing her brow trying to remember what happened.

"Robbery?" she questioned.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked, studying her face carefully.

"I'm not sure."

"Do you remember being hit?"

"Yes... but I don't know why. He was shouting."

"Who was shouting? Did you know them?"

Andy ran her thumb repeatedly over the locket, trying hard to piece together the jumble that was in her head. Before Sam could probe any further, a doctor entered the room smiling when she saw the patient was awake.

"Finally, Miss McNally," she exclaimed, "all the other members of staff will be so pleased to know you've finally woken," she declared, causing Andy to blush slightly.

"This poor man has been miserable waiting for you to wake up," she said pointing at Sam.

Both Sam and Andy looked at one another and smiled, their hands still clasped together.

"If you wouldn't mind," she said looking at her chart and back to Sam,"I need to examine Miss McNally, so we need some privacy. Maybe you can go and grab something to eat," she suggested.

"Sure," Sam complied. "I'll call Jerry and see if he can come and take your statement, and let the others know you are awake. Okay?"

"Okay?" Andy said.

Sam left her room, turning on his cellphone to tell her friends the good news. He felt happy, and truly relieved to have another chance to show Andy, just how great things could be between the two of them. Things seemed back on track, and for the first time in three days, he finally allowed himself to relax.

* * *

><p>Sam returned to her room thirty minutes later ladened with food.<p>

"I hope you're hungry," he said balancing two cups between his forearm and chest and a paper bag as he tried to open the door without spilling everything onto the floor.

Andy was now sitting up in the bed, her dressing freshly changed, but most importantly she was smiling, which made Sam smile back.

"What did you get?" she asked.

"Hotdogs and fries."

"Mmm, my favourite," she sighed. "Did you remember the ketchup?" she asked.

"Is my name Sam Swarek?" he cried, "of course I remembered the ketchup!"

He sat next to her handing her a hotdog, while he placed a large portion of fries between the two of them. Taking a bite into his own hotdog Sam almost forgot just how hungry he was, until his stomach growled in appreciation.

"Good?" he asked.

Andy simply nodded, taking a large bite and smiled.

"Have you always loved hotdogs?" he asked playfully.

"Pretty much," she admitted, popping a few fries into her mouth.

"My dad and I used to eat them a lot. We probably put the street vendors children through college and paid for their weddings, the amount of hotdogs we used to buy from him," she laughed, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

"Funny, I don't think I ever saw Tommy eat a hotdog once when I was a rookie. I supposed he just saved it for when he was with his favourite daughter," he commented winking at her.

"No, not Tommy...my real dad," she said cautiously, suddenly losing interest in what she was eating.

Holding the remaining hotdog in her hand, she dipped her head, staring at her lap. She chewed slowly, suddenly struggling to finish what was in her mouth. She leant over and took a large slurp of the lemonade from her cup, hoping it would dislodge the bolus of food that was now stuck in her throat. She felt hot, clammy and a little light headed talking about her real dad.

"So you remember your dad," Sam asked which was more of a statement than a question.

Andy nodded quickly, still averting her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest, scared to say anymore. That was the problem with being around Sam. She'd forget herself around him and end up saying things like that, private thoughts that were safer kept buried. Taking another bite of her hotdog, she waited for the questions to start, as she knew they would. Sam took some more fries, concentrating on dunking them into the ketchup, rather than staring at Andy. He could feel the anxiety radiating from her.

"I just assumed you were a baby when all that happened," he admitted.

"No, I was five," she said truthfully.

Andy handed the remaining half of her hotdog back to Sam. She lay her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, massaging the temple on the side of her head that had been hit.

"Are you okay? We don't have to talk about it if it is upsetting you."

"No...it's not that, it's just not something I'm used to talking about. Not even with my dad...Tommy," she clarified, realising talking about her two dads may turn confusing.

"Open," Sam instructed as he moved closer to her and put the hotdog next to her mouth. "Take another bite," which she did so feigning annoyance yet smiling at him anyway.

"My real dad was a criminal...well that's what the reports say," she began, chewing slowly.

"And what do you say?" Sam asked putting a few fries into her mouth and a few into his.

"Well, I guess the reports should be right," she conceded, rubbing her arms with her hands, alleviating the goosebumps that had formed.

Andy pursed her lips, trying to formulate her words in her mind. She had never been given the opportunity to really talk about her biological father, her daddy, so she didn't really know where to begin. It almost felt sacrilegious, like she was breaking an unspoken oath in mentioning his name. Sam sat watching Andy, his years of analysing her would never have taught him the things he had recently learnt about her, and it explained so much. He wanted to know her story, not as a nosy spectator but in order to understand her better.

"My memory of him is hazy at the best of times, but sometimes I remember things as clear as you sitting right here in front of me. I was never allowed to speak about him when I was young, and if I ever mentioned him my family, Sophia in particular would change the subject. I wasn't stupid, I realised then that they didn't want me to talk about him or his friends, so I stopped. But it didn't mean I stopped thinking about him here," she said tapping her head.

"Eventually I did stop thinking about him, and only very occasionally would he come to mind. It's only more recently that I can't stop thinking about him."

"What's brought this on?" he asked.

"I tried to ask my granny once," she said, not really answering his question, lost in her train of thought, "but she never gave me a proper answer. She was never one to hide things, but I could tell she was uncomfortable talking about it. So he must have been pretty bad, if she didn't want to talk about him, because granny never avoided anything in her life."

Sam tipped his head from left to right, as he contemplated her words.

"Am I talking too much again?" she asked laughing nervously, turning on her side to face him.

"Not at all Andy," Sam smiled reassuringly.

Sam took the last piece of the hotdog and stuffed it in her mouth, and laughed when her cheeks bulged as she tried to accommodate the large portion. He laughed even harder, when she tried to talk and all that could be heard was muffled sounds.

"What's that McNally..." he teased, "You think I'm the sexiest man in 15 division? I couldn't agree with you more!" he said, in response to his own question.

She rolled her eyes at him, but remained silent trying to digest what was in her mouth. Sam pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly on the forehead and she smiled at him, shaking her head at the same time.

Their goofiness, was interrupted by some coughing, and when they both looked towards the door they saw Chris with Sam's coffee and a donut.

"Andy!" Chris said.

Handing Sam the items he leant over to kiss her cheek.

"How's the head? That's a nasty lump you got there," he said pointing at the deep lacerated bulge that was protruding from her forehead.

"It could be worse Chris. Where's the others?" she asked.

"Dov is on desk duty, and not very happy and Traci said she was coming to see you later. Gail sends her regards... So what happened?"

"I don't really remember to be honest."

"So the guy they found was already dead or did someone kill him?" Chris asked.

"What guy?" she asked looking towards Sam then back to Chris.

"I hadn't had a chance to discuss that with Andy yet," he said, staring pointedly at Chris.

"Oh, Sorry," he said realising he had pissed off Sam.

"The guy that hit you. He was found dead not to far away from where I found you," Sam stated, staring at Andy carefully.

"Dead? He wasn't dead when he hit me," she said becoming agitated.

"Maybe somebody was after him," Chris suggested.

"The detectives have several theories they are working on, so just worry about getting better. I saw the doctor on my way back, and they are going to keep you in for a few more days for observation. Use that time to recuperate, you took a nasty blow to your head Andy."

He smiled at her gently, causing her to relax once more.

"So I shouldn't worry?"

"No," he said, taking a large bite of his donut, causing its jam filling to fall on to his chin.

"Very sexy," Andy laughed, wiping it with a napkin, her anxieties readily forgotten. Turning to Chris she hugged him goodbye as he made his way back to duty.

Once more, it was just the two of them alone. Andy swallowed the pain medication the nurse had left on the bedside table and yawned.

"Sam."

"Yes Andy."

"Can you stay a while? Just till I sleep? Then really you should go home, get some rest."

"Sure," he said swinging his legs up onto her bed, and shifting closer.

"You didn't tell my dad I was here did you?" she asked, suddenly remembering Tommy.

"Relax Andy, I thought it was best not to, especially as they said you would be okay."

"Good," she sighed, "he doesn't need any more stress."

"I figured that's what you would think. I did mention it to Oliver though as he was asking why Tommy wasn't here."

"That's okay Sam," she said as soon as she felt is body tensing at his confession, "I like Oliver. He's kinda like my surrogate dad."

"Talking of dads you never finished what you were saying about yours, as we were so rudely interrupted by Diaz."

"Chris wouldn't know how to be rude even if he tried," Andy joked.

"We don't have to talk about it, it's just you seemed like you wanted to before."

"I need to Sam, just say it out once and for all. I'm just not sure how long it will take."

"I'm in no hurry," he said, taking a sip of his coffee, and nodded for her to continue.

"My real dad was involved in drugs. Nothing major, apparently he was very low down in the food chain, something like a runner. He was killed by the police running some sort of an errand for his boss."

"That must have been hard for you, losing your dad so young," he said.

"God! I must have been a stupid kid," she said shaking her head at her misfortune, "because I didn't really understand he was dead for a very long time. I just thought he was busy with my uncles."

"Uncles?"

"Well I doubt very much that any were really my uncles, probably just his shady friends, but at the time that's who they were. There was Uncle Anton, Uncle Jimmy, Uncle Carlos and Uncle Wayne," she said counting them off on each finger. "There were more, but those ones stick in my mind."

"Dad...Tommy was investigating the case at the time, and I suppose he felt sorry for me so he took me in, and we've been together ever since," she said smiling.

"You really love Tommy don't you?"

"You know I do Sam. He did a good thing taking me in, and despite all the problems, my childhood was happy. A little bumpy maybe but I was happy for the majority of it."

"So why the _but_ face?"

Andy tutted, at the use of Sam's favourite phrase, followed closely by _because I'm awesome_ and _you did tackle me down in an alley and try to kiss me,_ taking second and third place.

"But...I was just as happy before I was adopted, maybe more so. I think. That probably sounds terrible."

She shook her head, trying to change that thought, but it remained as strong as ever, defying her to suggest otherwise.

"I don't know who this bad man is they are talking about Sam. I know what they say, what the reports say, but that isn't what my heart says. I went to see Boyko a few weeks back, wanted to look at any data he had from my dad's case, and he basically said the same thing, that he was no good, that he was bad."

"Why would you go to Boyko? You know how to use our database at the barn."

"I couldn't access it, it was a sealed filed."

He considered what she said, offering her his coffee and she shook her head politely declining.

"Not many files are sealed McNally, sealed files are a big deal. The only two that I know of is Zoe Martinelli the rookie that was murdered a few years back, and anything linked to Anton Hill."

"Okay."

"Did he let you see that file?" he asked, trying to piece together this 100,000 piece puzzle that was Andy McNally.

"Yes Sam he did, very briefly though. You can't tell him you know," she said earnestly.

"Yeah, I'll just bring it up in conversation when me and Boyko are next playing golf," he said sarcastically.

"Seriously Sam, I'm not kidding. He could lose his job if this got out."

Sam took her hand and squeezed it, nodding his head.

"So did you find out why it was sealed?"

Andy was the one to squeeze his hand back. She was suddenly very nervous, and her body tensed. Sam looked at her, and squeezed her hand back in return nodding for her to continue. Turning to face him, she cleared her throat.

"They say he worked for Anton Hill."

The surprise on Sam's face could have almost comedic, if he wasn't looking so shocked that he looked ill.

"It doesn't sound like you believe that," Sam said noting her choice of words.

"I don't want to believe that, I know how you feel about Anton Hill. I see it in your eyes when you talk about him or when there is another lead, which comes to nothing, when another witness has disappeared. I don't want it to change the way you feel about me, knowing my dad used to work for him. But if it's in the police report, then I guess it must be true."

Sam was silent, slowly processing what she said.

"The funny thing is," she said rambling on in a way that was so typically Andy, "and I don't mean funny ha ha, but funny peculiar, he probably doesn't even remember my dad. Just another fool in a long line of desperate fools that continue to queue up to work for him. He probably didn't even know or care that a little girl had been orphaned."

"What about your birth mother?" Sam asked.

"Well I hate to think what her story was, if living with my drug handling father was a better alternative," she said giving a self depreciating laugh. "I don't want to know, probably just another big fat disappointment that is my life."

"I don't know your dad Andy, all I know is Tommy and he's a decent man, and the more you tell me the more I know he raised you well. It would take something much worse than that to make my feelings change for you, and even then I don't think it would."

Andy sighed, moving closer to Sam, snuggling up to the warmth of his body.

"I'm cold."

Sam slipped off his shoes and climbed under the sheets with her.

"Are you warm now?" he asked sliding closer.

"No," she giggled mischievously.

He loved to hear her laugh, it was so typically Andy. Warm, spicy and incredibly sexy.

"What about now?" he asked draping his arm across her waist.

"Hmm, maybe a little," she teased, allowing Sam to pull her closer towards his body.

"And now," he said huskily, capturing her lips with his own, careful not to get too carried away.

"I'm definitely feeling warmer," she said kissing him back once more and laying her head and hand on his chest.

She missed everything about Sam. How he felt, his scent and the general feeling of calm that washes over her just having him near. They stayed like that a while neither saying a word. The gentle strokes of Sam's fingers were soothing as they stroked her hair. He held her hand with his other hand and nuzzling her nose, littered her face with gentle butterfly kisses, causing her to sigh gently.

Rolling on to her side and turning to face him, they kissed once more. This kiss was full of both understanding and acceptance. Sam deepened the kiss, and Andy readily responded, pressing her body closer to his.

They were interrupted by a loud gasp, and both looked up to see Jerry with his mouth agape and Traci grinning wildly.

"Sammy," he said shaking his head in bewilderment, "this...this isn't supposed to be happening."

His gaze darted from Sam whose hand was locked in Andy's hair, to Andy whose hand was around his neck and back to Sam once more. She was practically lying on top of him, her face flushed and Sam had a look of pure lust and something else that he could not quite place. Jerry knew when it came to all things McNally, Sam couldn't say no so he had to put a stop to this once and for all.

"Listen Andy, I realise you had a close call, and you're feeling a bit vulnerable right now, and I suppose Sammy is feeling a bit emotional too...I mean you guys are partners but, this...," he said gesturing between the two, "s not the answer."

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend, weirdly touched by his concern yet annoyed at his disregard of Andy.

"But you Sam..." he started, sounding angry.

Traci grabbed his arm, but he pulled away, not quite done with his assessment of the situation.

"What about your girlfriend? Don't do something you'll live to regret."

He shook his head in exasperation. "Sammy's taken," he said abruptly to Andy.

"Yes I am," Sam said, kissing Andy once more.

Jerry stared in disbelief, and Traci started to laugh.

"Guys, stop teasing him," she said shaking her head, "put him out of his misery."

Jerry turned to look at Traci completely confused.

"Andy _is_ the girlfriend, she has been all along," she said patting his cheeks twice.

"What! wait! You knew? Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, looking at Traci and then to Sam, blushing profusely.

"Sorry babe, not my story to tell," she said shrugging her shoulders.

"Sam?" he asked, looking forlorn. "I had your back man."

"I know buddy," Sam said feeling guilty and slid away from Andy and off the bed.

Walking towards Jerry, he held out his hands in surrender.

"Sorry man, things were still new, they still are and I didn't want to speak to prematurely."

Traci rubbed her hand up and down Jerry's back, attempting to sooth his battered pride.

"Friends?" he said embracing him in a quick man hug, which Jerry relented and joined in with.

Jerry started to relax, the colour in his cheeks returning to a normal shade once more. Looking at Andy sheepishly, he apologised, which really was more of a muffled sound than a sorry, but she graciously accepted it, too tired to really care.

"I've come to take your statement," he said, clearing his throat, trying to deflect from the situation.

"Well, you'd better do it quick, I'm falling asleep," she said rubbing her temples once more, her head feeling sore.

"No problem, do you want to do this alone?" he asked trying to sound official.

"No, it's fine," Andy said. "I don't really remember much anyway."

"Just tell me what you remember, let me be the judge of that," he said as he went into his detective mode.

"And this is official right? It will be on the record?" she asked.

"Yes, of course. Why?" he asked.

"No reason,' she said winking at Sam. 'just if we're being official, then I'd like to make it officially known that I'm not a lesbian," she said smirking.

Sam laughed and Jerry groaned turning a deep shade of red once more.

'"Okay, okay,' Jerry continued,'I'm an idiot!"

"Do I really want to know what all that's about ?" Traci asked. "On seconds thoughts I don't want to know," she said answering her own question.

After the laughing had died down, Jerry grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to the bed.

"Okay Officer McNally, tell me from the beginning, what happened three days ago in Kensington Gardens.2

Andy lay back against the pillows, and holding Sam's hand throughout, began to explain what she could remember about that night.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN- They say 13 is unlucky for some, and it just might be true. I could not get this chapter up any sooner, as it has been re-written so many times to get it how I wanted. It is my longest and definitely most hardest chapter so far, and in some ways the most important. It's a busy chapter and mood changes throughout, which is intentional, so let me know what you think. Chapter 14 is already in progress so hopefully I will have it completed by next week. Anyway, so here it is, hot of the press...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Time and Patience.<strong>

The detectives sat huddled in a small back office, deliberating over the evidence in front of them. Things had changed dramatically in the last twenty four hours, now that the identity of their 'John Doe' had finally been established.

"Tony Carlucci, our John Doe," Luke said loudly, as he stuck a photo for display on the board at the front of the room.

A hush fell over the detectives as they stared at the photo, taken from a high school yearbook around five years ago. A handsome, clean cut, young man in the prime of his life smiled back at them. A massive contrast to the crime scene photo, next to it.

"Officer McNally, the victim," he continued adding her photo to the board.

"McNally's the victim? I think Carlucci might disagree with you there," Boyd suggested sarcastically, causing the other detectives from Guns and Gangs to snigger at his remark.

Luke refrained from commenting, and adjusted his tie, waiting for the noise to die down. It was difficult trying to work together, and he felt like a school teacher trying to quieten down a class of rowdy, hormone fuelled teenagers. Instead, he was left to deal with a group of middle-aged detectives with a chip on their shoulder...and Donovan Boyd.

Guns and Gangs wanted the case, 21 division wanted the case and 15 division wanted the case, all with valid reasons. Superintendent Peck had to intervene, and seeing as she had connections with individuals working in all three of those teams, had decided the investigation should be a joint venture, prophesying it would improve inter-division relationships. Luke was not so sure, as the last few days were already testing his patience.

Once the chattering had died down, Luke continued talking in his usual over confident manner. He had been reviewing all the evidence and had several theories, but this one made more sense in his mind. As far as he was concerned, this case was staying with 15, and his presentation would demonstrate why.

"Anton Hill," Luke continued, attaching his photo to one side of the board.

Boyd, folded his arms watching with interest, he already had his own suspicions about this case which he was keeping to himself. However, it would seem the blue eyed detective was thinking like him, but he just needed to see the last photo in Callaghan's possession to confirm his suspicions.

"And finally Officer Swarek."

Jerry sat up in his chair, both puzzled and surprised to see his close friend's photo on display.

Boyd, nodded impressed, it would seem Luke Callaghan was not just a pretty face after all.

"Now we know Carlucci worked for Anton Hill," Luke said, drawing an arrow between the two men.

Jerry, sipped his coffee, studying the pictures on show, whilst trying to curtail his anger. He was a good detective, and jokes aside, took his job very seriously. Jerry was annoyed that Luke never shared any of this information with him beforehand, choosing to wait until he had an audience to demonstrate his detective prowess. They were supposed to be a team, but Luke always acted as if he were the better detective. In fact he acted as if he were the better 'everything.' He'd take great pleasure in telling him about Swarek and McNally's recent development, dropping the news on him when he least expects it. _Jerk_.

"We know that Officer Swarek had worked undercover, and was trying to take down Hill," Luke summarised. "We also know Hill knew about this, and had publicly threatened him."

He took the marker pen and drew another arrow between Hill and Swarek. Luke then drew another arrow between Andy and Sam.

"These two officers have been partners for approximately two years," he explained.

"So what exactly are you saying?" one of the detectives from 21 asked, rather rudely.

"What he's saying..." Boyd interrupted, "is that McNally was targeted as a way to get back at Swarek. There is no love loss between these two men. Swarek infiltrated his business, saw some of how he operated, and almost took him down. This could easily be revenge."

"So why not just go straight for Swarek?" Jerry butted in.

"Because partners tend to be close, and McNally and Swarek are very good friends," Luke added, not wanting to lose his spot in the limelight.

Boyd raised an eyebrow at that comment, especially after what he had witnessed when he tried to visit McNally in hospital. There was no way those two were just good friends. Even during the Landry case he knew there was something going on, even if they didn't know it themselves. But that was another piece of information he chose to keep to himself for now.

The detectives started talking amongst themselves, considering the proposal put forward.

"So why didn't he just kill her?" a bald headed detective questioned.

"Maybe he's sending Swarek a message, warning him," another suggested.

Jerry sat shaking his head, not buying into any of it.

"No, that can't be it," he said unconvinced.

Luke looked at Jerry, and would have disregarded his outburst if he wasn't looking at him square in the eyes.

"Why pick McNally? Swarek has family members that could have easily been targeted. Where is the message to say Hill did this?" Jerry said, nodding his head towards the photos on display.

"Tony Carlucci is the message," Luke said condescendingly. "He left Tony Carlucci as his calling card. He knew we would identify him and trace him back to Hill."

The others seemed to be buying into his theory and Luke looked on smugly at Jerry, highlighting one more time why he was the superior detective.

"Bullshit!" Jerry cried, mislaying any amount of 15 division team spirit he had left in him.

"What did you just say?" Luke asked startled by his abruptness.

"I said bullshit. You're trying to say Hill attacked McNally, then decided not to kill her, but killed an employee instead, and somehow that would be a secret message to Swarek? Bullshit."

Luke, turned his face away, trying to continue his presentation, but was interrupted by Jerry once more.

"Hill does not routinely kill or attack people personally, he has workers to do that for him. Besides why wait two years to carry out his revenge?"

As there was no answer, Jerry continued.

"McNally said there were two men arguing amongst themselves, before she was attacked. Her descriptions of the suspects do not match Hill. They never spoke to her directly, or mentioned Swarek in any way. Nothing was taken, and she had a reasonably expensive cellphone with her at the time. I think she just got caught up in the middle of a fight between these people. I think the killer of Tony Carlucci, is mystery guy no 2. In fact..." Jerry continued, rising to his feet and pulling out the statement from Sam, "our shooter is either mystery guy no 2 or no 3. Swarek saw two vehicles drive away from the crime scene so there were three of them at the very least including Carlucci although McNally is convinced there was only two men. So our third suspect was either there all along but out of sight, or arrived later while she was still unconscious."

Satisfied, he had picked enough holes in Luke's theory Jerry sat back down in his chair and continued drinking his coffee. _Who's the superior officer now?_ He thought to himself.

"I think we need to go back to the beginning with this guys," Jerry said with certainty.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and began ploughing through the evidence once again.

* * *

><p>Johnny sat sitting in his vehicle, listening to the sports results playing on the radio.<p>

"So what are we waiting for?" his passenger Randy asked.

Johnny sighed, and turned the volume up louder. He just needed a peaceful day; no hassle, no dead bodies, no talking and no questions.

"Alright, I get it," Randy said all-knowing. "The other guys already warned me you don't talk too much. They say you've been working this job for so long, that your habits are very similar to the boss."

Johnny didn't know who these guys were that Randy was talking about, or why they felt they knew him well enough to pass comment. The boss kept them separate from one another and did not encourage the mixing of groups.

"Maybe I should start calling you Johnny Hill," Randy chuckled, desperate for some form of communication. He nudged Johnny, looking for some sort of response...maybe a smile...anything.

Johnny remained silent, and closed his eyes.

"So what are we doing here?" Randy asked, trying to be serious.

"Waiting."

"Waiting for what?" he asked, looking around for some sort of clue.

"Until I say it's time to go."

Johnny pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lighting one took a long slow pull, enjoying the feeling as the tobacco filled his lungs. He couldn't even last a week without his nicotine friends, and this new guy was working on his last nerve. Randy. He seemed to think he knew it all, this one, which Johnny found highly irritating.

Johnny leaned back in his seat, and leisurely finished his cigarette. He lit his second, as he watched a hospital porter cross the road and make his way towards their car.

"It's impossible," the porter said, stopping by the drivers side to speak to Johnny.

He looked around him, and trying to look inconspicuous, took the $50 Johnny slipped into his hand.

"There's police going in and out of her room, and there's some boyfriend that is with her all the time. She's never alone."

"But she's alive?" Johnny questioned.

"Yeah. Just woke up yesterday."

"Yesterday," Johnny repeated sounding surprised. Tony must have hit her real good.

"Yeah, the nurses say it was a pretty nasty blow to the head."

Johnny nodded.

"How much longer will she be in?" he asked calmly.

"A few more days," the porter responded.

Johnny brought the cigarette back to his lips and nodded once more. After considering the options available, he decided on what he felt was the easiest and safest way of locating the brunette. He still didn't know entirely what this was all about, and he didn't particularly want to find out. All Johnny knew was if his plan worked then he could step away from this one and leave it with the boss to deal with. One thing he was sure of was that this situation was personal. Personal sounded emotional, messy and complicated.

"One more thing..." Johnny added, as the porter began to retreat. "I need an address."

"Listen man, that's not gonna be easy. I can't afford to lose my job."

"You won't lose your job. I just need the address she's going to when she's discharged. Do you think you can do that?"

Johnny slipped him several crisp $50 bills, which he eagerly took. The porter nodded, slipped it into his uniform pocket and went back into the building.

"What's the address for?" Randy asked.

"I don't know, and it's not in my job description to ask questions," Johnny said flatly.

"Aren't you interested in finding out?" Randy questioned disbelievingly.

"No, I'm not. The way I see it the less I know, the less I have to tell the cops if they ever catch up with me."

"Good point man," Randy laughed, taking one of Johnny's cigarettes out of its box.

"So what happened to the last guy in my job?" he asked, lighting up the cigarette and leaning back into his seat.

"He's dead," Johnny answered void of any emotion.

"How did he die? Was he sick?" Randy asked full of concern.

"No he wasn't sick... he smoked my cigarettes without asking."

Randy almost choked on what he was inhaling, unsure of what to say, so he said nothing. Johnny kept his face serious, but inwardly smiled.

"It's time to go," Johnny said firmly, to which Randy nodded without comment.

Maybe this one would be easier to train after all, he thought to himself.

* * *

><p>Andy awoke, still entwined within Sam's arms. He had the television volume on low watching the weather report.<p>

"Good morning," he said softly as she began to stir.

"Sam, please tell me you went home last night?" she asked, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

Already knowing the answer, she watched Sam shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Sam!" she gasped. "You need to rest and sleep in your own bed. It's not fair you staying here like this."

"Yeah, well I kinda like having you around," he said casually.

Andy shook her head at him disapprovingly.

"What?" he asked, questioning her response.

"Nothing," Andy replied quietly.

What Sam was afraid to really admit was that he was still frightened that something might happen to Andy during the night. He knew she would be fine, the doctors had said so. Still, he shuddered to think what could have happened if he didn't find her when he did. Sam needed to be close by just in case she needed him. He needed to be close by Andy because he needed the reassurance of being near her. But Andy didn't need to know that or any of the other thoughts that were in his mind. Things were good, things were right and they were both on track to having a normal relationship.

"How are you feeling?" he asked leaning in to give her a quick kiss.

"My head still hurts, but I'm okay."

Stretching her limbs, Andy lay her head back on Sam's chest. Sam turned up the sound on the television, and they lay in comfortable silence watching the news.

A male porter walked in a short while later waving some fresh towels by way of introduction.

"Oh, hello," Andy said surprised at the interruption, pulling her head away from Sam's chest and sitting further up in the bed.

"Who are you?" Sam asked a little abruptly.

"I'm Mike. One of the porters," he said cheerily.

Sam's gut was telling him something wasn't right. Hospitals were like police stations, and required a routine to work efficiently. Shifts may change, staff members may change but routines remained the same. This porter had not been part of their routine for the last few days.

"I've never seen you here before, normally one of the nurses brings fresh towels. She normally brings them in the evening," he said pointing to those already folded neatly on the chair from the previous night.

"Yeah...that's right, but I had some free time this morning, so I offered to help out. These poor nurses, always rushed off their feet...overworked and underpaid," he said smiling.

He placed the towels along with a few extra pillowcases at the foot of the bed.

"You feeling any better?" he asked Andy, pointing to her head.

"Yes, Thanks," she replied.

"So... I suppose you'll be staying with your boyfriend once you get out? Or maybe your mom or dad?"

"I..um..." Andy started, taken back by his forwardness.

"She hasn't decided yet," Sam said cutting Andy off.

She could feel his body shift against hers, and knew Sam well enough to know he was in overprotective mode. She loved this side of him, but felt it wasn't necessary right now.

"Well if you need anything, you only need to ask," Mike said smiling. Again.

"Yes we'll be sure to ask the nurse," Sam said slowly, watching the porter closely as he turned to leave.

"Sam!" Andy cried when the porter had left the room. "There was no need to be so rude. He was just being nice."

"No McNally, he was being creepy," Sam said as a matter of fact.

"Come on Sam, don't be so mean. Some people are genuinely nice."

"Not that guy. If he comes in here again and I'm not around call one of the nurses. There's something off with him."

Andy shook her head, at his stubbornness.

"I'm serious Andy, I was getting weird vibes from him. When you've been working undercover as long as I have you get good at reading people. He did not come here to bring you fresh towels, I'll bet my life on it."

"Okay Sam" Andy relented, not wanting to argue about some random porter. "Now will you go home and get some rest. Traci will be here in a couple of hours so I'll be fine until then."

"I'll wait till she comes," he said, turning his attention back to the television.

"Sam," Andy said.

He continued to watch the television with great interest.

"Will you go home now please? I'll be fine."

"Sam!" she snapped, when he did not answer.

"Fine," he simply said, in a tone which was new to her.

"Sam?" Andy said again, suddenly very unsure.

He remained silent, moving to sit on the edge of the chair to slip on his boots. Again his expression was lost to her. An angry Sam she could deal with, a quiet and grumpy Sam was nothing out of the ordinary, but this version of Sam was something new.

"Sam, talk to me," Andy pleaded, swinging her legs over to the edge of the bed.

Sam rose to his feet to leave, and Andy caught him by the arm. She felt his muscles tense at her touch, and relax again.

"What's wrong? Did I say something to upset you? If it's about the porter..."

"Andy, it's not about the porter," he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and looking towards the door.

"Well, is it because I told you leave?" she questioned, trying to find the reason for his change of mood.

Sam, looked over her shoulder, focussing his attention on anything but her.

"It's not about that, not really, I'm just being silly. It's just..." His voice was shaky.

"It's just..." she said, patiently waiting for him to continue, and trying her hardest to understand him.

"It's just what Sam? Tell me. Please."

"You nearly died the other night, and I almost lost you. I wasn't there to protect you," he choked.

"I'm fine Sam, see? It's going to take more than a knock on the head to get rid of me," she smiled.

"It's no laughing matter!" Sam said distressed, his pitch unusually high.

"No, you're right, it's not," she said more seriously, staring at him closely.

"I just..." he whispered, still avoiding her gaze.

"I just need you in my life. The thought of you not being around scares me."

He was breathing heavy.

"I need you in my life too Sam... probably more than you need me," she admitted.

"I doubt that very much," he said, finally allowing his eyes to meet hers. "You could have your pick of most guys."

"Look Sam I know I'm a little... emotional," Andy said tipping her head to one side contemplating her choice of word, "but I do know what I want and need, and that's you."

She slid off the bed so she stood facing him, her pink socks pressed against the inside of his boots, and her hand still firmly around his arm.

"I thought we were okay, was I wrong?" she asked searching his face for an answer. "This whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing is still new for me and I'm pretty useless at it so I need you to tell me when I'm screwing up," she sighed defeated.

"You're not screwing up," he said shaking his head, "It's me. I need to give you space, stop smothering you."

Andy stepped even closer to Sam, so that her body was flush against his own. Pressing his forehead against hers, Sam closed his eyes.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," she whispered, "stay."

Sam gave a small smile and nodded, allowing his body to relax. He wasn't ready to give her that space just yet.

Andy removed her hand from his arm, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sam placed his hands on her waist causing her to relax into his touch. Placing her head into the crook of his neck, she sighed softly as they gently rocked from side to side, soothing one another.

"This normal relationship business, it's tricky stuff huh?" Andy commented.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, as he pulled her even closer. "Yeah it is."

* * *

><p>"How to drop a dress size in five days," Traci said, showing Andy the magazine article she was reading, as she put the remaining cookie into her mouth.<p>

She discarded its empty wrapper in the small bin next to the bed, which already contained two cheeseburger wrappers and two empty cans of Pepsi.

Andy leaned over her best friends shoulder, looking at a lady in a minuscule bikini, talking about this new diet craze taking America by storm.

"Traci, you aren't seriously thinking of trying that are you? You've already got a body to die for," Andy commented.

"Yeah, maybe like two hours ago," Traci groaned, flopping back onto the bed.

"Besides, I'm just checking it out, so I'm up to speed. You know Jerry will have probably heard about this already. That man is way too cool to be a detective," Traci smiled, shaking her head at her hip and almost forty boyfriend.

Both Traci and Andy giggled, like two teenagers at a sleepover.

"How is the case going? Any leads?" Andy asked Traci casually.

"Doesn't look like they're any closer to cracking it. Jerry thinks it was just a case of you being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Luke has other ideas."

"Like what?" Andy asked, her mind more focussed on which chocolate to select from an assorted luxury box on her lap."

Unable to decide between one with a Hazel Nut or Brazil Nut filling, Andy shrugged her shoulders, and popped them both into her mouth at the same time. Traci laughed at her friend, and chose a dark chocolate, allowing it to slowly melt on her tongue.

"We'll have to both go on this five day diet, if we keep this up," Andy joked, choosing another chocolate and lying back against the pillow next to her friend.

"Apparently Luke was going on about Anton Hill," Traci revealed, patting her stomach which had slowly grown into a little mound.

"What about Anton Hill?" Andy asked, offering Traci another chocolate.

Taking another one, Traci shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not quite sure, Jerry was pretty pissed off when he rang me this afternoon. Luke was doing his usual 'look at me' thing he does so well, and excluding Jerry in their briefing."

"Figures," Andy muttered.

"Anyway apparently the dead guy worked for Anton Hill. Luke was suggesting maybe you were targeted to get back at Sam."

"Well that's just stupid," Andy huffed.

"That's what Jerry said. He said Luke was grasping at straws."

"Luke just wants to be the one to solve this, so he can pat himself on the back. Anton Hill wouldn't hurt me." Andy said with certainty.

Traci looked puzzled by Andy's statement.

"Well...technically he could hurt you, but what would be the point of that?" Traci added, agreeing partly with some on what Andy had just said.

"No he couldn't, wouldn't hurt me, he..." and Andy stopped mid-sentence not quite sure what she was going to say next, or even sure as to what she was talking about.

She rubbed her forehead, feeling flustered and slightly confused. She also felt strange.

"Are you alright Andy?" Traci asked, turning to face her. "Do you want me to call the nurse?" she asked.

"No..I'm fine," she said continuing to rub her forehead. "I think I ate too much chocolate."

"You sure? You weren't really making much sense the last minute or so. Maybe you need a painkiller. I'll go and find a nurse," she insisted, climbing off the bed and walked quickly out of the room.

"How are you feeling?" a voice from the doorway said to her.

Looking towards the door, Andy saw it was the porter from earlier on.

"I have enough towels, thanks," Andy said, turning away.

"Yes, I know. I was just asking how you were feeling?" he said pointing to her head.

"Um, I'm fine. My girlfriend has just gone to get the nurse."

Now what did Sam tell her about this man? she suddenly thought to herself. Traci and the nurse should be back soon, so she patiently waited.

"Make sure you have someone around when you're discharged," he said. "You still need looking after."

Andy smiled, "My boyfriend will be taking care of me, so I'll be fine."

"That's good to know, you can never be too careful when it comes to your health," he said wisely.

Traci entered the room once more with a nurse, who handed Andy some pain medication.

"Hey Mike, there you are!" she said breathlessly to the porter, as she began to attach the cuff on Andy's arm to monitor her blood pressure. "There's a spillage in room 301 that needs clearing up."

The nurse turned her attention back to Andy, pulling the curtain around the bed so she could examine her more closely. Trying to give Andy some privacy, Traci followed the porter out of the room.

"So your staying with her all evening right?" he continued to fire questions.

"Yes," Traci said coolly. "Although her boyfriend will be back later."

Traci sat on one of the chairs outside Andy's room, wondering whether to call Sam now or wait till later. She was aware that the porter was there waiting with her. Swarek was definitely on the money when he said this guy was weird. She thought he was being a little excessive in 'handing over' every time they swapped turns in sitting with Andy, but there was an obviously a method in his madness.

The porter probably just had the hots for Andy she concluded, most men did, and was trying to suss out if she was single. Probably wanted her telephone number, and she was confident that Andy would not be doing that, whether Sam was in the picture or not.

"You know her boyfriend is a cop right?" Traci decided to add, and that seemed to do the trick.

Mike the porter scurried off and Traci did not see or hear from him again for the rest of the day.

Traci returned to the room, to be greeted by an embarrassed Andy.

"How you feeling?" she asked, pulling up a chair close to her bed.

"I'm fine Trace, I think I just had a sugar rush. Too much junk," she said pointing to the half full bin.

"Well spare a thought for me stuck out there with that pushy porter from hell."

"Mike?"

"Is that his name? Well Mike is weird. I think he likes you though. But never fear, Traci is here," she said creating a drum roll for dramatic effect. "I told him you had a boyfriend who was a cop."

"Real subtle Trace."

"Yeah, well Jerry must be rubbing of on me. But you gotta admit, that porter is a little weird."

"You sound just like Sam," Andy said sarcastically.

"You know I'm going to have to tell him about that and this incident when we have the _handover_?" she said.

"Yeah, I know."

"And you're not kicking and screaming, protesting that you are fine?" she asked incredulously.

"No Traci, I'm not. Sam just worries, and I totally get that."

"Hmm," Traci smiled which changed into a devilish chuckle.

"You and Swarek huh? Domesticated bliss, and living with it happily," she commented.

"Well if you call the blind leading the blind domestic bliss, then yeah we're both on cloud nine."

"You'll get there Andy, you both will. Sam cares about you a lot, anyone can see that."

"I really just hope my commitment issues don't screw things up for us. He's a special guy."

"And you're a special lady Andy," Traci added, patting her hand reassuringly.

* * *

><p>Sam opened the door to his house.<p>

"Home sweet home," Andy smiled staring around the living room.

Sam smiled when she said those words, and secretly hoped she would never leave.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

Andy shook her head.

"Are you sure? It's no problem. Tea, coffee, warm milk or anything else your heart desires," he offered, giving her his best dimpled smile.

"I'm fine Sam and I'm quite capable of making my own drink," she teased, wiggling her fingers as proof of her mobility.

Andy took of her coat and rested an arm on his shoulder as she stood wrestling to take her boots off. She went to sit down on the settee, and noticed a pile of her unopened mail on the coffee table.

"I went over to your apartment to make sure all was well, and I brought back your letters," Sam explained, removing his own coat.

"Junk mail, junk mail and more junk mail," Andy groaned, discarding the letters one by one.

Sam nodded and toed off his boots.

"It's not all junk," he said, "take another look."

As Andy rummaged through the letters she saw a postcard from Tommy. Her eyes lit up with delight, just as Sam envisioned when he first saw it in her mailbox. Eagerly picking it up, and staring momentarily at the picture of a forest in the front, she turned it back over, smiling at his all too familiar scrawl. Clearing her throat, she read its contents out aloud.

_'Hey Kiddo, How are you keeping? Things are going really well, and I'm glad we decided to do this. Lots of fresh air and new experiences at my time of life! I have made lots of new friends, but there is one lady in particular I'd like you to meet as soon as I am allowed visitors...'_

Andy raised an eyebrow, and looked at Sam, who chuckled.

_'I wish you were here and am missing my little girl. Say hello to Swarek for me. Love you always, Dad. X'_

Andy's eyes were a glistening, and she smiled at Sam who sat down next to her.

"Hey, no waterworks!" Sam cried, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug.

"I'm just happy he's doing so well that's all," Andy said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Sam leaned forward and kissed her on her brow, still amazed at her capacity to care so much about others.

Another letter caught her eye, and she immediately recognised the postmark on the envelope.

"Ugh!" she groaned. "It's that time again."

Sam watched her open the letter, and poke out her tongue at it as if it were a real life living and breathing person.

"It's an invoice from the Osmosis _Rehabilitation Centre, _payment is due in fourteen days."

"You seem calm about it all," Sam reflected.

"It's just been one thing after another these last few weeks. I just haven't had the chance to worry about it or put my thinking cap on. I'll think about it later when your at work and find a solution."

"How much are you short by?"

"$1700... Piece of cake right?" she said laughing nervously, chewing her bottle lip.

"Look I don't have to go in this afternoon. I can call Frank and take a personal day, so we can figure this out," Sam offered.

"You go to work Sam, I just wish I could go back already. I'll wait up for you tonight, we'll have a late dinner and talk, okay?" she asked, running her thumb across his hand.

"There's not much in, and what is has probably gone off by now," he said, but still nodding at her suggestion.

"I'll go to the grocery store later this afternoon and pick up a few things."

"Do you wanna watch a movie then?" Sam asked switching on the television, looking for one of those daytime tele-dramas he hated, but she was so keen on watching.

"No, let's go to bed."

"You feeling tired? " he asked, full of concern.

"No Sam I'm not tired, and I don't want to sleep. I want to go to bed with you."

Sam laughed heartily, realising what she was saying.

"Are you trying to seduce me McNally?"

"No, Sam I'm not trying to seduce you. I'm trying to ...' Andy leaned forward and whispered the rest of the sentence in his ear, causing Sam's eyes to widen.

"Yes ma'am!" Sam cried, jumping to his feet, which caused Andy to laugh enticingly.

Scooping Andy up and off the settee, he carried her to the bedroom, stopping several times along the way to kiss her for all he was worth.

* * *

><p>Andy lay in bed staring at the clock on the bedside cabinet. After a heavy session of love making she had fallen asleep, whilst Sam got dressed and made his way to work. Rolling onto her stomach, she saw it was already 3pm, and she needed to go to the grocery store. Taking a shower and changing into some fresh clothes she left the house an hour later to buy the things she needed to prepare dinner that evening.<p>

Johnny and Randy had been sitting outside the house for the last six hours, having to go with a more complicated plan, as Mike was unable to get the brunettes address. There was _'not enough time'_ he said. What he was able to tell them was the time and day she was leaving the hospital, which was the next best thing. They sat waiting for the couple to say their goodbyes to the hospital staff and exit the building. They followed the pair on their journey for twenty minutes, watching them from a distance as they parked their truck and entered the boyfriend's home. Mike also said he was a cop, which meant things had to be handled carefully.

"Who are they?" Randy asked.

"You need to keep quiet," Johnny said staring straight ahead at the house. "Too much talking will get you killed."

Randy frowned, seeing his remark as a thinly veiled threat, Johnny saw it simply as a warning.

Several hours later, they saw the boyfriend leave.

"So are we going in now or what? I'm hungry," Randy moaned.

"No."

"What are we waiting for?" Randy whined.

"You're waiting for my instructions, and right now we wait."

Randy sighed loudly, irritating Johnny further. He had spoken far too much already.

"Shut up and learn something you moron," Johnny snapped, not ready to have to deal with another dead body just yet if things went sideways again. "How do we know the boyfriend won't be back in a few minutes time? Maybe he's gone to get a carton of milk or a loaf of bread. How do we know there aren't other people in that house? There could be kids, elderly relatives in there. You do not go rushing in blindly."

Sighing heavily, he lit a cigarette. "We wait, and watch. This isn't an action movie, this is real life. So if you want to last in this job, and you want to stay alive you need to understand that these things take time and patience."

Randy, turned at looked at him dumbfounded.

"I never really thought of it that way," he admitted.

"Yeah well now you do," he said gruffly. "Keep it simple, this job is difficult enough without making things harder than it has to be."

Randy nodded, finally beginning to understand what Johnny was trying to say.

"Eat this!" Johnny grumbled throwing him a bar of chocolate.

Randy tore open the wrapper greedily and began to eat and Johnny continued smoking his cigarette, both waiting and watching in total silence.

* * *

><p>The silver car, pulled up beside the black SUV, and the driver rolled down his windows partially.<p>

"How do you want to do this boss?" Johnny asked quietly. "She's in the grocery store now or we could wait until she goes back to the house.

"Good afternoon Mr Hill," Randy said enthusiastically, and Anton looked right through him as if the seat next to Johnny were vacant.

Turning back to Johnny, Anton lit a cigar. He'd been here before not too long ago, when it all went terribly wrong. Andy knew who he was deep down, he knew it, he did not just imagine her calling his name, or at least he hoped not. Anton needed her to remember.

"Bring her out to me. Don't hurt her," he said firmly.

Randy, grabbed the door handle of the car to exit.

"No," Johnny said. "You stay here."

Randy reluctantly complied without complaint. Anton parked his car a little further up and waited. There was no time for sentimentality now, he needed to stay focussed. There would be plenty of time for sentiment later if he could just get her to talk to him. Johnny slipped on his shades as he exited the car, and crossing the busy road, entered the grocery store.

Anton sat and watched the entrance to the store willing her to be the next person to leave. He tapped his hand impatiently on the steering wheel as more time passed. He couldn't risk going in there, and knowing that she was dating a cop made things more complicated. He trusted Johnny to bring her to him safe, but there was a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that this part of the plan should ultimately be his responsibility.

Johnny wandered around the store, and watched the brunette as she sauntered around pushing a shopping cart. The scar, an ugly reminder of recent events was still visible on her forehead and was an angry red colour. He picked up a magazine, casually turning the pages while he deliberated how he was going to get her to leave the store with him without causing a scene. He watched her put a few items in her cart, as she strolled around the store with a small smile on her face as if she had a secret that nobody else knew. He couldn't help but wonder if she would still be smiling once she met the boss.

Andy continued browsing several aisles, until she came to the meat counter. She was the only person in that section and Johnny seeing the opportunity started to walk towards her. Slipping his shades into his top pocket, he tried the hardest to make his approach the least threatening as possible.

The brunette looked up at him, and with instant recognition on her eyes, stood straight staring directly at him. Johnny continued walking towards her, attempting to smile which only seemed to panic her further.

"Look lady, I don't want no trouble. I just have a message for you."

Andy's heart began to race.

"Keep away from me!" she hissed.

Picking up a tin can from her shopping cart, she hurled it at him hard, hitting him on the head. Johnny cursed loudly, rubbing away the pain.

"It's not so nice is it?" Andy said, hitting him again, with a can of tinned peaches.

This time the can hit him in the chest and fell to the floor, causing him to groan in pain.

"It wasn't me lady. I wasn't the one that hit you," Johnny said stopping himself from moving any closer.

"No, but you were there. I saw you."

Andy should have been scared, but instead she was more angry. Angry at being attacked, angry that her friends were made to worry and angry that Sam was so effected by it all that he was still scared to leave her alone. All for what? She didn't quite know.

"Why did he attack me?" she asked, picking up another tin can.

"Because he was stupid," Johnny answered calmly.

"What?" Andy spat, taken aback by his flippant response.

"He wasn't supposed to hit you, he was supposed to keep an eye on you."

Johnny wasn't quite sure why he was telling her this, but all he knew he was tired of this shit. He'd just been hit twice with a tin can and was sure a lump was beginning to form on his head. He didn't want to be hit a third time, but judging by the look in the brunette's eye, it was a strong possibility. Still, his talking seemed to be calming her down, and if he could just convince her to come outside with him, he could walk away from whatever the hell was going on.

"Why would he need to watch me?" Andy questioned.

"Because I asked him to," a deep voice said from behind her.

Andy spun around and saw Anton Hill, in all his glory standing looking at her. The third tin can she was getting ready to throw, dropped from her hand and landed back in her shopping cart with a loud clunk.

A security guard came down the aisle, and watched all three intently.

"Is everything alright here?" he asked, staring at the view before him.

"Everything's fine," Anton answered staring at Andy.

"Miss?" he said addressing Andy, "Is everything fine?"

"Yes everything's fine," she said slowly staring back at Anton.

The security guard walked away, turning back twice as he did so.

Both Anton and Andy remained hypnotised by one another, unable to move.

"Go back to the car," Anton said dismissing Johnny, before returning his gaze back to Andy.

This stupid...sweet...cute...lovable...kid... who was now a woman. Where did all the years go? he wondered.

There was no dress rehearsal for this, no time to prepare. This was his one opportunity to appeal to her, relying heavily on the fact that she would listen to what he had to say.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked softly.

"Anton Hill," she said narrowing her eyes, but not looking away.

"That's all? I'm just Anton Hill?" he probed, narrowing his eyes back.

_You're Anton Hill._

"You're a drugs dealer," Andy said shakily, "and...and you tried to kill me a week ago."

"So why haven't I killed you yet then, hmm?" he pressed.

Andy shook her head, not quite believing who she was standing in the middle of a grocery store talking too.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, suddenly flipping his question back at him.

"You're Andy. It is still Andy right?" he asked in clarification.

Andy blinked at him several times, her mind seemed to be working slowly today. It was having difficulty processing what he was saying.

_He knew her name. Anton Hill knew her name._

"Do you know who my father is?" she asked, wiping a single tear that escaped from her eye.

_Why is she asking him this? Why was she crying?_

Anton took a step forwards, and Andy took a step backwards, still gripping the handle of the shopping cart.

"You tell me..." Anton said, his eyes boring holes into her.

"So you don't remember his name, but you remember mine?"

"What makes you think I don't remember his name?" he pressed further.

"Because he was just another employee, a runner, a lackey, a nobody," she said defensively.

"Maurice...Maurice was never a nobody," he answered uneasily, finally looking away from the intensity in her eyes.

_Anton Hill knows my father's name._

They stared one another for what seemed like eternity. Andy was unable to move, Anton was waiting for recognition.

"So you remember his name," Andy stated indifferently.

"What makes you think I thought so little of him that I wouldn't?" he pushed again.

"The police reports told me everything I need to know about you," Andy retaliated.

"Really...like what? That I didn't remember his name?"

The sarcasm and inflection in his voice was apparent.

He looked at her curiously, wondering what was going on in her head. He knew she was over-thinking, he recognised that all too familiar expression on her face, although it was historically accompanied by the sucking of her thumb.

"How could a police report know what I am thinking?" he threw back at her.

Anton had no idea what was going on here, answering questions with more questions, yet still really having no answers at all.

"You denied knowing him because you didn't even remember him."

"I denied knowing him because I didn't want to go to prison. Of course I remembered Maurice," he admitted candidly.

_Anton Hill remembers my father._

"And you remember me," she blurted out.

"And I remember you," he paraphrased slowly.

_He remembers me. _

Her mind was slowly catching up with her, but was still lagging behind. Think like a cop McNally, look at the facts. Anton Hill. Suspect in several witness murders including the possible attempt at your own. Drug trafficker, a bad bad man. Quick! Run and hide.

_Anton Hill remembers my father._

Andy knew she should be running away, screaming but she couldn't move.

_He remembers Maurice. He remembers me. So why do I not remember him?_

"Who am I?" Anton asked again, more insistent.

"Anton Hill."

"That's all I am?"

"And you knew me, you knew my dad. He worked for you."

_Why is he asking me that same question?_

Walk away now Anton. She doesn't remember. No harm no foul.

Andy's mind really was catching up with her now, it was almost there. It had only ever let her down once, but it was stronger, wiser and skilled in the art of self preservation.

Andy walked away, picked up the two stray cans from the floor and continued shopping.

_So do I know him? Should I know him? Why don't I know him?_

Anton followed suit, matching her step for step. Should he stop talking? Had he said too much? Had he pushed her too hard? What is she thinking? He can't stop, not when he had only just started.

"So nothing else to add?" he goaded.

"Okay, so you knew him and vaguely remember me. That's good to know."

Ignore him, be firm, he'll go away and then you won't have to think about this. Focus on shopping.

_Broccoli, Carrots, Vegetable Oil, Rice, Apples. Sam likes apples, I'll bake him a pie._

"Maurice Cedric Laville, born in Dijon, France."

_France...My dad was born in France?_

"A sensitive guy, an over-thinker with a big heart."

_A Lion's Heart._

Keep walking Andy, keep walking. You don't have to deal with this.

_Bread...we need bread. Wholemeal or White? Maybe both._

"Liked to drink red wine, but had to settle for beer most of the time..."

_A cake. I'll bake a chocolate cake instead of a pie. Everyone likes chocolate._

"Loved his only daughter Andy."

Don't listen, Don't listen.

"Andy Laville, chatterbox, an over thinker just like her dad. Liked to sing songs, and read books at bedtime. Adopted when her father died. She was five years old and two months..."

_He knows things. How does he know these things?_

"Yes I remember Maurice and Andy clearly, in high definition."

Andy stopped walking, but did not turn around.

"I'm not going to hurt you Andy, that's not what all this is about. It was never about hurting you."

"I know you won't hurt me," she whispered.

_How can you be so sure?_

"You sure about that?" Anton goaded once more.

Take it easy on the kid Anton, too much too soon. She's on the edge. She doesn't remember. Leave her, let it be, let it go.

"I'll see you around kid, look me up some day. Don't leave it too long. I'm sorry about the head by the way."

_Kid?_

Anton left the grocery store as calmly as he came in.

_I'll see you around kid...Everything will be alright kid... Shhh everything will be alright kid...Shhh kid, everything is alright...Don't worry kid, everything will be alright._

Just as he walked away, her mind finally caught up with her, almost knocking her down, such was the force of what it needed her to know.

"Uncle Anton..." she gasped, holding on to the shelf for support as she was likely to topple over. The room would not stop spinning.

Andy stood still, closing her eyes and willing the pounding in her head to subside.

_Don't let him go. He remembers you! He remembers Maurice! And you remember him!_

Rushing to leave the store she moved clumsily falling into a customer.

_I remember him!_

Andy ran as fast down the aisle as she could in her dazed and confused state. Running out the store she swung around but could not see him anywhere.

_You're not crazy! Look, Look, there he is across the road! Don't let him get in that car!_

"Wait! Wait! Don't go!," Andy screamed across the traffic.

Anton turned around slowly and saw Andy whose body disappeared behind a passing bus, and re-appeared once more. She was crying, the tears streaming down her face, and she never looked more like her father than she did at that precise moment. He watched her carefully as she crossed the road and stood facing him.

"Who am I?" he asked, desperately wanting her to say those words that he never grew tired of hearing despite his pathetic attempts at disinterest all those years ago.

"Uncle Anton. You're my Uncle Anton," she answered in between sobs.

Anton simply nodded, and sighed.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN- Thankyou so much for the reviews for my last chapter. Here is the next installment which I hope you guys enjoy just as much. I'm tired now and it's after 2am across the atlantic, so hopefully I will wake up to some lovely reviews to start my working week on a happy note (but if I hear a beep on my phone, I'll probably wake up to read it!) **

**As always...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: The Parable of the Drug Trafficker.<strong>

"You okay kid?" Anton asked after a while.

"No, not really," Andy said shakily, as she tried to calm herself down.

Anton nodded, his face remaining neutral. He knew she was still in shock; he on the other hand had years to come to terms with things. Except he hadn't. Not really.

"There's a coffee shop just there," he said pointing to a building a few doors away from where they were standing. "It's cold out here, let's get something warm to drink and talk."

Andy stared at him in silence, having some difficulty in formulating a coherent sentence.

"Is that okay?" he asked gently.

Andy nodded slowly, allowing herself to be led inside.

* * *

><p>"Somebody needs to come and deal with this," Traci said to Jerry, before turning to face Luke. "I told her there are no updates, but she is refusing to leave unless one of the detectives dealing with her son's murder speaks to her."<p>

"Mrs Carlucci?" Jerry asked, exasperated.

Traci nodded, and squeezed his arm in commiseration.

"I think it's your turn Callaghan," Jerry sighed. "I spent an hour consoling her yesterday. Just don't be too hard on her, she's still grieving."

Luke stood reluctantly, adjusted his tie, and plastering his best smile on his face, made his way to the front desk.

"Detective..." Mrs Carlucci said with tear filled eyes, as she saw Luke approach. "Is there any news?"

Luke shook his head remorsefully.

"Somebody must know something!" she wailed. "How can he just be shot dead and no one knows who's responsible?"

Luke sat down on the plastic seat next to her, and placed a well-rehearsed hand on her shoulder. Mrs Carlucci looked up at him and sighed. She looked exhausted, and she seemed to have aged significantly over the last several days.

"Rita," Luke said firmly, "I can assure you that we are taking this case very seriously, but results just don't happen overnight. We are working on several leads, and as soon as we know something, we will let you know."

"What about the police woman, the one who was hurt. She's awake now right? She'll tell you my baby didn't hurt her. Tony...he is...he was a good boy. Ask her," she pleaded.

"We did talk to her, and it was as we suspected, your son was identified as being her attacker."

"But it doesn't make sense, none of it makes sense," she uttered in disbelief. "Tony wouldn't harm anybody. Maybe she's got it wrong."

Luke rose to his feet, in another well-rehearsed move, to signify the discussion was over. He wasn't like Jerry, and couldn't sit there anymore listening to her blabbering on about how wonderful her son was when he clearly wasn't. He wasn't a counsellor, he was a detective. This lady needed a reality check.

"Mrs Carlucci, if there are any new developments we will contact you. You have my number and if anything new comes to mind, anything that may be helpful to this case please let me know."

With one last well-rehearsed shoulder squeeze, and half a smile to signify his sympathy, Luke turned and began to walk away. He could see Jerry in the distance, shaking his head in disapproval, but Luke didn't care. He dealt with facts rather than emotions. Emotions never solved a case, and only got in the way of the truth.

"Anton Hill!" Mrs Carlucci shouted.

Luke stopped, and Jerry walked quickly to join him.

"What about Anton Hill?" Luke asked.

"He knows something, I'm sure of it."

"We need something more concrete than just a feeling," Luke said, continuing to walk away.

"My cousin Wayne got him the job; he knew Anton from years ago and asked him. He warned Tony to keep his nose clean, that Anton had a nasty temper. Maybe, Tony got him mad, did something wrong..." she vented desperately.

"We'll bear that in mind, Mrs Carlucci," Luke said in the tone that Jerry had heard far too often, which meant he was losing interest.

Jerry felt the need to intervene, and stood in front of Luke so he was now in her sole field of view.

"Okay, Okay Rita," Jerry said kind-heartedly, "let's find somewhere a bit quieter and talk."

Rita Carlucci gave a small smile, wiped her tears and followed the detectives into their office.

* * *

><p>It was busy inside the coffee shop, and the hustle and bustle of the place made Andy feel more at ease. They found an empty table in the corner, and Anton pulled out a chair so Andy could take a seat, while he went to place an order. He returned shortly and took a seat facing her, watching her features with a mixture of sadness and relief.<p>

"You have his eyes," Anton commented when she looked up at him, "but then again, you always did," he added softly to himself.

Andy remained silent, and having stopped crying, sat puffy eyed, taking slow and steady breaths in an attempt to regulate her breathing.

The waitress came to the table with their order, placing a cup of coffee in front of Anton, and a mug of hot chocolate in front of Andy. She placed both hands around the mug allowing herself to feel its warmth. The warmth made her think about Sam, and what he would say if he knew she was sitting with his nemesis, who just happened to be an 'uncle' and a friend of her deceased father. She decided things could always be much worse, although right then she didn't know exactly how.

Andy watched as Anton poured creamer into his coffee, stirring his spoon with slow and deliberate clockwise movements before adding a liberal amount of sugar. He too seemed lost in his own thoughts, and she wondered what he was thinking about.

The heavy winter jacket Anton wore, was now slung over the back of his chair. He was simply dressed, but classic all the same. He wore black trousers and matching shirt with a few buttons left undone at the top. On his left hand he wore one gold ring on his baby finger, which was obviously too small to fit any of the others and a gold Rolex on his wrist. Andy knew he was wearing shoes, as she heard the steady rhythmic click of their heels as they walked around the grocery store, but she never saw them. She resisted the urge to look at them now, and if she were to hazard a guess, Andy would expect them to be black too, and made from Italian leather.

That was it. That was Anton Hill, one of the most wanted men in Toronto.

"So?" he questioned, snapping her out of her daze. "What do you wanna know?"

"Everything."

"Everything's a big word kid," Anton said wryly.

"Okay..." she said, her brow furrowed in concentration, as she worked through the million of questions in her mind.

"Why are you here? Why now?" she managed to say.

"That's a very good question," Anton replied, taking a mouthful of his coffee, as he considered how best to answer her.

"Do you believe in destiny Andy?"

"What?" Andy asked, certain she had misheard him.

"Destiny. Do you believe that some things are meant to be, and no matter how hard we avoid it, or deviate from it, everything always comes back to that one pre-determined plan?"

"Um...I guess... I've never really thought about it," she said hesitantly.

"So you don't think it's strange, that we are sitting here, now, after all these years?"

He didn't add that this scenario used to be a common occurrence, when once a month, Maurice stood at a payphone across the road, calling his grandparents in France. Anton would drink a coffee, and the kid would have a glass of milk with a cookie while they waited. Maurice always seemed a little more grounded, a little more content, and a little more French after he had spoken to them.

"I don't know... I guess," she shrugged, unsure of what he wanted her to say.

"I was just thinking," he said, before taking another drink from his cup.

Andy took a sip of her drink too. His behaviour was making her anxious.

"You asked me why here and now, but really I should be asking you that."

"I don't know what you mean," she said confused.

"Well, you came looking for me and you sought me out. So as much as I decided to keep away from you all these years, our paths cross again once more, and that was down to you."

"I didn't seek you out," Andy said defensively.

"No? So what were you doing in Kensington Gardens? Surely you must have realised I would have known it was you?"

"I wasn't there to see you; I just needed to be there, or something. I'm not sure. I didn't think you would find out, I wasn't expecting you to find out; my memory of you wasn't really there. It still isn't, not fully."

Anton stared at her, processing her words.

"How would I know you had people watching me?" she continued.

"In my line of work it pays to be alert."

He hesitated slightly, wondering just how frank to be with her.

"You were sitting outside my warehouse for weeks. I was sure it had to be the cops, but I didn't know why they would be there as I hadn't used that warehouse in over twenty years. Nobody really knew about it except people from my past, and then they were only a select few."

"People like Maurice you mean?"

"Yeah," he said clearing his throat and composing himself once more. "So I figured it had to be someone a little closer to home, and the more you were there, I thought maybe it was a sign that it was time for us to be reacquainted."

* * *

><p>Jerry handed Mrs Carlucci another tissue, and sat patiently as she blew her nose.<p>

"Okay, Rita," Jerry said, "let's go over what you said before, about Anton Hill."

"Tony was working for Anton Hill; my cousin Wayne got him the job."

"Yes, you said," Luke stated.

"So how did your cousin know Anton Hill?" Jerry asked, throwing Luke a nasty look.

"I don't know. We made fun of Wayne when he said he knew him. I mean Anton Hill is a pretty big deal, and my cousin is hardly a tough guy, he works as a gardener. But when he said he had got Tony an interview, I had to take it all back."

"You do know that Anton Hill is a criminal right?" Luke questioned.

Mrs Carlucci tensed, and kept her focus on Tony's photo that she had in her hands.

"This is about finding my son's murderer right?"

"Yes of course it is," Jerry said soothingly.

"So why does it feel like I am the criminal here," she snapped, before her eyes filled with tears once more.

"No, Mrs Carlucci," Luke said applying his 'talk to me' face. "I'm just trying to understand, it's how I work out a case. Please continue."

"We needed the money. I'd lost my job and the bills were piling up. It was only meant to be for a while, until we got back on our feet."

"How did your cousin know him? Are you sure he didn't say?" Luke asked, repeating Jerry's earlier question.

"I honestly don't know, and although I was surprised, I never asked. I was just grateful that he was able to help us."

"So what did Tony's work involve? Did he ever discuss it with you?" Luke continued.

"No, not really. Tony said he drove him around, but he started to become a little withdrawn, and..." she looked at Luke before whispering to Jerry. "He came home with blood on his shirt."

"Did he say where the blood came from?" Luke asked, his interest peaked.

"He said he had a nose bleed."

"And did you believe him?" Jerry questioned, his suspicions aroused also.

"I did at the time, but now I don't know."

She started to cry again.

"It's okay Rita," Jerry said, "take your time, there's one or two more questions I'd like to ask. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Will it help to find who hurt Tony?" she asked desperately.

"It may do. Do you mind if I make some notes? Just so I don't forget anything," he said smiling warmly.

"You're a good man, detective," she said. "Your mother must be very proud of you."

"I'm just doing my job, Rita," Jerry replied, and took out his notebook.

* * *

><p>"What can you tell me about Maurice?" Andy asked.<p>

Anton sighed, not knowing where to begin. There was always an uncomfortable feeling in his chest whenever his name was mentioned. As soon as she said Maurice's name, Anton felt old wounds opening that were still already red raw after all these years.

_Maurice lay shirtless on the settee, staring into space. He felt stupid and angry, but most of all his heart ached. He heard the sounds of keys in the door, and Anton hurried in carrying supplies from the pharmacy._

"_Where's Andy?" Maurice groaned, grabbing Anton by his arm and pulling himself to sit up._

"_Shit man, Richie really did a number on you. The kid's downstairs with Giuseppe."_

_Grabbing Maurice by the jaw, Anton whistled long and slow, examining the cuts and bruises that littered his face and body, along with a busted lip and black eye._

"_Was Bella there?" Anton asked roughly._

_Maurice remained silent and Anton shook his head disbelievingly._

"_I told you to leave it alone. Bella played you my friend trapped you with Pussy Power."_

"_Don't be so crude Anton," Maurice winced, as he shifted to a more comfortable position._

"_It's true," Anton said bluntly, not in the least bit apologetic for what he said. "Why did you go back there by yourself? If you really wanted to hurt Richie, me and the guys would have come with you. Although, if you ask me Bella is the one who needed the slapping around not him."_

"_No, don't say things like that. She can't help it. Richie doesn't care for her."_

"_Stop it Maurice, stop making excuses for her! Richie or no Richie, you and Bella had a child together, and that should count for something. She used that against you instead. I bet she didn't even ask about the kid did she?"_

_Anton started to tape his friend's waist, and swore, already knowing what the answer would be. Bella made him so mad at times and he hated the way she used Maurice when she was down on her luck._

"_Look at you man. Is she really worth it? No woman is worth this...even Bella. I told you not to go home with her that night, but you still went. I know Bella too well."_

"_I thought she wanted me, she said she missed me, and when we made love..."_

_Anton rolled his eyes, but refrained from commenting when he saw that his friend was in distress._

"_I thought maybe we had a chance...to try again. How could she fake it like that? She loved me once, I know she did."_

_Anton sighed, not wanting to kick him when he was clearly already down._

"_Listen man, I'm telling you this because you are my friend and I know how Bella operates. She used you, seduced you and stole from you when your guard was down. She planned it, maybe Richie was involved but at the end of the day it was her. All her."_

"_I'm a fool Anton. Two thousand dollars all gone. My grandparents were relying on that money; their farmhouse is falling to pieces."_

"_Yeah...well...you're not a fool, just blinded. Let this be a lesson to you, cut her out of your life, she's no good, let her go."_

_The two friends stared at one another in a silent understanding. Anton poured him a glass of Scotch which he gulped down quickly._

"_Let her go man, let it go. You've done well with the kid; she's loved, looked after, smart, even if she is a bit too talkative."_

_Maurice laughed, and began to cry a little. Anton did not comment, letting his friend grieve for a love lost._

_Andy came bustling up the stairs and barged into their apartment. "Hello Daddy!" she cried._

"_Hello Princess," he replied._

"_Papa, es-tu malade?" Andy asked, stopping suddenly when she saw her father and his injuries._

"_No princess, I'm not sick. I fell over. Silly daddy!" he said with a fake cheerfulness._

"_Oh," she said, staring intently as Anton bandaged her daddy's hand._

"_Kiss it all better," Andy said in a sing song voice, which Maurice would often use when she was unwell._

_She climbed up onto the settee and kissed Maurice, smiling wide._

"_Kiss it all better Uncle Anton," she instructed, holding out Maurice's hand._

_Maurice laughed when Anton kissed his hand, muttering to himself something that sounded like 'If people saw me now...' as he did so._

"_I'm feeling much better already," Maurice smiled back at her, and although the pain was almost unbearable Andy gave him renewed hope._

"_Did Uncle Giuseppe give you something to eat? Do you want daddy to make you a sandwich?" he asked._

"_No daddy, I had spaghetti."_

_Maurice nodded, relieved he didn't have to move, and Andy snuggled into him further._

_The three remained that way for the rest of the evening. Andy talking non-stop, Maurice nodding every so often and Anton joining in when Maurice looked to be in obvious pain. Anton re-filled both their glasses several times throughout that evening. Several hours later and staring down at a sleeping Andy, he turned to face his friend._

"_You good?" Anton asked._

"_I'm good," Maurice replied._

"_Shit happens man; we'll get some more money... What is it you always say?"_

"_C'est la vie," Maurice said drowsily._

"_That's right man, C'est la vie. You're gonna have to teach me some French pal; the ladies always go for it. I'm trying to get that foxy lady Priscilla from the club to go on a date with me. Maybe if I ask her in French, she'll say oui," he said in his best French accent._

_Maurice laughed._

"_No more women for me," Maurice declared. "The only woman in my life is this little one," he said, smiling at Andy._

_Andy had adjusted herself so her head was on his lap and her feet was curled under Anton's thighs for warmth._

"_Thanks Anton," Maurice said with sincerity._

"_That's what friends are for," he replied._

"_You're more than just a friend," Maurice added, feeling emotional once more._

"_Jeez!" Anton mocked, "Is this where you really go all French and start kissing me on both cheeks?"_

"_Maybe..." Maurice smiled good naturedly._

"_Well the only person I want kissing me right now is Priscilla!"_

_Both men laughed again._

"_Now you and the little lady here need to go to bed, so I can sleep on mine," Anton said getting ready to pull out the folding sofa bed that they were all sitting on._

_Carrying Andy in his arms Maurice stood up, pained at the sudden movement. He staggered into their bedroom, ready for sleep, and although the pain in his body was still bad, his heart ached a little less._

"Your dad... we met when we were both fifteen," Anton finally said after what seemed like an eternity. "I never liked him much then. He was too quiet, yet all the girls found that irresistible, and the accent just made them flock around him even more."

Andy leaned forward slightly amused, lapping up all he had said.

"He never really fitted in with the guys at school, but looking back we were a bunch of spotty faced brats. He didn't even seem too bothered that we made fun of him...he was different even then."

"Different how?"

"Just different. He had a quiet confidence about him, and didn't dress like the regular kids...he never wore jeans or sneakers. We all made a point of ignoring him, but then I got smart."

Andy narrowed her eyes questioning his last statement.

"I realised that all the girls liked him, and I mean all of them, even the older ones. So I figured if I were his friend then all the girls would like me too."

Andy covered her mouth in shock, but started to laugh at his honesty.

"Hey," he said, joining in with her laughter. "I was a lot of things back then, but I wasn't stupid. I got more lip action the year I became friends with your dad than ever before. Figured it made sense to keep him around and I guess he just stuck."

He smiled at her then, and she smiled back.

Anton cleared his throat, not quite sure what to say next.

"So where did they ship you off to….the cops?" he said much more seriously.

"Nowhere," she said shaking her head, and taking another sip of hot chocolate. "I've been in Toronto all my life."

Anton nodded, "Happy childhood? Good family?" he asked.

"We had our ups and downs, but I never felt more loved," she said, somehow trying to defend the McNally honor.

"Good…that's good," he said, keeping his eyes on his coffee.

"Did my dad... Um...Maurice have a happy childhood?" she asked suddenly, not quite ready to change their topic of conversation just yet.

"Well, yes I suppose so, but he was never one to complain. It wasn't his nature."

"Was he shy?"

"Quiet yes, shy no. Things were a little rough for him growing up, but he just accepted it and got on with it."

"Rough? How?"

"His parents were aid workers. Went around the world raising money, building new hospitals, digging wells, feeding starving people, you follow my drift?"

Andy nodded, her eyes wide in amazement.

"Well anyway, they went somewhere, India I think or maybe it was Indonesia. They both caught Malaria which went untreated for some time and died. Maurice went to stay with his grandparents in France but they were too old to care for him, so he came to live with an aunt and uncle in Quebec. When they got divorced a couple of years later, the aunt moved to Toronto taking Maurice with her."

Andy stared down at her mug to take another sip and saw that it was empty. She didn't know when she drank it all.

"Do you want a re-fill kid? Maybe a slice of cake?" he asked. "I'm going to get another coffee."

"Yes, thank-you," she smiled shyly.

"Good girl," he said, sounding pleased with her answer, and went to place another order.

* * *

><p>Andy heard the beep of her cellphone and saw she had a text message from Sam.<p>

_'How you feeling? It's been so busy tonight, and I'm working with Epstein:('_

_'I'm Ok. Miss me now huh?'_ she texted back.

_'Always! See you tonight. X.'_

_'Ok:).'_

She put her phone back into her pocket, just as Anton returned.

"Do you need to go?" he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"No, not yet. I was just texting my boyfriend," she explained.

"Is it serious?" he asked, just as the waitress returned with their order.

"Yes," Andy nodded, blushing slightly.

Anton remained silent, and added more creamer and sugar to his coffee. He'd leave the subject of the cop boyfriend for now, it was somewhere in the middle on his list of priorities.

"I really gotta go," Andy said suddenly, thinking of Tommy's possible disappointment in her being there. And then there was Sam.

"You haven't finished your drink!" Anton exclaimed, startled by her sudden change of heart.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's probably not the best thing for us to be talking," she said, gathering her things.

"Best for whom...you or the boyfriend?"

_So the cop boyfriend had moved rapidly to the top on his list of priorities._

"I'm sorry," Andy said again as she turned to walk away, Anton called her back, the only way he knew how.

"He was leaving the life you know," he said in a raised voiced.

Andy turned around and stared at him shocked.

"What did you say?"

"I said Maurice was leaving the life. Said it wasn't worth it, that he had you to think about. That night was his last big deal, and he was gonna take the money and split, move to Vancouver and start again."

Andy began to blink feeling the pin prick of tears in her eyes.

_Anton had succeeded in getting her attention, although he wasn't ready for this part of the story just yet. There was other things she needed to know._

"Listen Kid, I got no reason to lie to you. We were set to make an easy $500,000 from that deal. In those days that was some serious cash. He already had the flights booked for the following morning, and had found you a nice school. And then…well you know what happened," he said closing his eyes. "Maurice was a good guy, despite what they may have told you, he was a good guy."

"But that's the thing, I don't know, not really. I think I remember things but I can't be completely sure," she revealed, sitting down opposite him once more, her anxiety temporarily forgotten. "The police reports said..."

"To hell with the police reports! I bet there's a lot of things in that report about me that is wrong."

"There's a lot that's true," Andy retorted.

"Maybe," Anton shrugged unconcerned. "The point is kid; I could tell you things about me and your dad that you'll find in no police report."

"What do you mean?

"What I'm saying is that it's time to separate the truth from the lies. Sometimes the good tell lies, and sometimes the bad tell the truth."

"So is this where you tell me you were a wronged man, and that you are really an honest, law abiding citizen?" she mocked.

"I'll leave that for you to decide," he replied, pushing the uneaten cake towards her.

Andy took a bite, and began to drink her hot chocolate, trying to make sense of it all.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" he asked, after they had both finished.

"Where to?"

"To my restaurant. It's not far, I want to show you something."

* * *

><p>The warmth of the coffee shop made the cold weather seem more harsh as they left. Andy pulled her coat tighter around her and Anton buttoned up his jacket. As they began to walk, the man who she had met earlier in the grocery store appeared. He looked at her briefly, nodding once very formally before turning his attention fully to Anton. The younger man with him stared at her until Anton's glare made him look away.<p>

"We're going to the restaurant," Anton said to the older man. "We're walking."

The older man nodded in understanding, and his partner looked confused but remained silent. Andy did not know their names, but had mentally named them goon one and goon two.

They started their short walk and the goons followed, keeping a distance. After a short while, they were approached by a lady, most likely a beggar, and before either of them could respond to her request, goon one moved quickly and was by their side shooing her away.

"You can never be too careful. Trouble comes in many disguises, and not just a police uniform," Anton explained easily, when he noted her startled expression.

They arrived at the restaurant and it was different from how she remembered on her second day as a rookie. Most noticeable were the customers. The place was fairly busy, there were waiting staff, and the soft music playing gave the place a pleasant ambience. The staff seemed startled to see Anton there, and clucked around him like mother hens. He waved his hand at them dismissively, and walked further inside, motioning for Andy to follow. The goons stayed by the entrance, settling themselves on the plush seats nearby.

Andy noticed a familiar set of stairs to her left, but she was guided to the right towards a door that she did not remember seeing before. Anton opened it, and there was a narrow stairwell. He began to walk up it, beckoning for her to follow. At the top of the stairs was another door, which Anton pushed open and they entered a small area comprising of two rooms and a small wash room. There were boxes and papers piled up neatly, and it would seem it was some sort of storage room.

"Do you know where we are kid?" he asked.

Andy shook her head.

"We used to live here."

"We?"

"Yes. You, me and your dad," Anton said. "I slept here on a fold out bed. You and your dad...Maurice, used to sleep in there," he added, pointing to a small back room.

"Where's the kitchen?" she asked, struggling to comprehend how they all lived in such a small space.

"There wasn't one. We ate out a lot or ate sandwiches when we were here."

"It's really small," Andy commented.

"Yeah, but it was all we had to call home."

Anton sat on one of the larger boxes, and sighed, smiling softly to himself.

"You know kid," he said, "I've never said his name this many times in one day, in a very long time."

He undid his jacket, and pulled off his gloves, just staring and smiling.

"This is where I always feel him the strongest. So many secrets, confessions, tears and laughter happened in this room."

There was definitely something comforting about the apartment, and there was recognition in the back of her mind, but it was like she was walking through a fog that hadn't quite cleared. She sat down on the box next to Anton, her eyes wandering around the room.

"Still think I thought he was a nobody?" Anton questioned.

"No. No I don't," Andy said.

"Good..." Anton said brusquely,"...because he wasn't."

* * *

><p>"We cannot just haul Anton Hill in for questioning, based on what Mrs Carlucci told me," Jerry said calmly.<p>

"Why not?" Boyd growled. "That son of a bitch needs to be held accountable."

"For what? Right now things are a little too blurry for my liking. Tell him Sammy!"

"It's true Donny," Sam said facing Boyd. "If we bring him in; we'll have a law suit slapped on us before we can blink."

"Law suit for what? We are just asking him a few questions. He's helping us with our enquiries."

"Harassment for one. Let's just think about this rationally," Jerry sighed.

"Callaghan?" Boyd said, hoping Luke would agree with his idea.

"Sammy's right," Luke said.

Sam cringed at Luke calling him Sammy.

"Maybe there's something in what Mrs Carlucci is saying, but we have to be smart. We need more evidence," he continued.

"Couldn't we get a warrant to search his premises? See if we can find the weapon," Boyd pushed.

"Not enough cause, the judge would laugh it out of court," Sam added.

"Well that only leaves the cousin, Wayne. Looks like he's the best shot for now. Are we agreed?" Jerry asked.

Everyone nodded, except Boyd.

"Boyd?" Jerry questioned. "We are a team, we need to work together on this. Let's try and give Mrs Carlucci some closure, and make her realise we are on her side."

"Yeah, yeah," Boyd grumbled.

"Right, so we see if we can locate this cousin, maybe look into his background. Sammy you in?" Jerry questioned.

"Sorry man, I got lots of paperwork to complete and need to get home tonight at a decent hour."

"Right, yeah of course," Jerry said winking.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"So we'll catch up tomorrow?" Jerry smiled.

"Yeah, tomorrow buddy," Sam said slapping him on his back, before he left the room.

"Wait up Sammy!" Boyd said, jogging after him.

They walked along the hallway in silence.

"So how's McNally?"

"She's on the mend."

"Has she mentioned anything new, maybe remembered something," Boyd asked hopefully.

"Nope."

"Man, if I could get Hill put away, it would be the bust of my career."

"Yeah well, if he did shoot that kid, is that really enough? We wanna get him for the good stuff. Slow and steady my friend, he'll slip up soon enough."

"You think? Twenty five years that bastard has been running this city, and it doesn't look like it's ending any day soon."

"Slow and steady my friend," Sam repeated.

"You're screwing McNally aren't you?"

"I'm not screwing anybody," Sam replied, not rising to the bait.

"You're losing your fire man, the old Sammy would be up all night looking for evidence. Since you and that rookie have started playing house, you've gone soft."

"Let's just say my priorities have changed. I'm all for putting Hill away man, I am. Look I gotta go and finish up my paperwork. Keep me updated," he said as he walked away.

"Sammy..." Boyd flung his arms up in the air in frustration.

Boyd didn't get this far in Guns and Gangs by doing things completely by the books, and the end always justified the means. That's what he told himself anyway. He'd do his own digging, no more of this teamwork nonsense.

* * *

><p>They both made there way back down into the restaurant which did nothing to dampen the calm mood between them. His staff where scurrying around as soon as they saw him, and it reminded Andy of when Superintendent Peck or another white shirt announced a visit and the frenzy that ensued.<p>

"I'm not usually here this time of night," Anton said as if he had read Andy's mind.

"No?"

"No. Evening time, is my time. It can't all be work, work, work."

Andy yawned, rubbing her temple. She could feel the beginnings of a migraine.

"You look tired," he said, staring at her closely.

"A little."

Andy was tired, exhausted if she were to describe it, but she wasn't ready to leave just yet. She knew she couldn't do this again, and once she told Sam, because she would have to tell Sam, he would say the same thing. This was a once in a life time freak occurrence, so she was simply taking advantage of the situation.

Anton guided her to an outdoor seating area, which not too surprisingly was empty due to the cold temperatures. Goon one and two, hovered by but remained inside at the bar. They were clearly visible through the glass doorway but were far enough away to give them space, and not overhear their conversation. Goon two was wolfing down some food, while goon one sat drinking a coffee.

"So what do you do?" Anton asked.

"What do I do?" she repeated.

"Yeah, you know, as a living? You went to university right? You were a smart kid."

"Yes, I went to university."

"What did you study?"

"Sociology and Criminology."

"Hmm," Anton responded, as he mulled over her chosen subjects.

"What did you do with that then?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I'm a police officer."

Anton remained quiet, and if he was shocked, she would never have been able to tell.

"You're a cop?" he said, raising his eyebrows casually.

"I don't think you're in a position to question my choice of career," she said, sensing his disapproval.

Anton started laughing loudly, and the two goons looked over at them, obviously never hearing such a sound leave his mouth. Goon two gaped, his fork suspended in mid-air and goon one remained impassive, but taking it all in none the less. Anton continued laughing, and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Man!" he cried, "Your dad would get a kick out of this. His one and only becoming a cop. Talk about the irony of it," he said and continued laughing.

"Why are you laughing at me?" Andy asked, her hurt apparent.

She looked crushed, defeated and as much as Anton would have loved to walk away at that very moment, he knew he couldn't, not for Maurice.

"There are worse things you could be. Maybe..." he reasoned, his expression still unchanged, and the laughing stopped.

"My boyfriend's a cop too."

Anton leaned back into his chair, and dug his hands further into his pocket, and did not comment.

"He loved you, more than anything in the world," Anton said.

Andy looked at him bewildered, at his change of topic.

"Your dad." Andy flinched at that word.

"Sorry. Maurice," he conceded. "He loved you, he really did and it would be wrong of me to make you think otherwise. I think he would have been happy at your choice of career. He would have been proud."

"And you?"

"It doesn't matter what I think," he said coldly. "I'm here to set you straight on your dad, because however uncomfortable you find it, that's who he was."

The mood had changed from only as few moments earlier, and the tension was thick.

"What is this, some sort of honor amongst thieves?" she said retaliating at his remark.

"Something like that...but I'm not a thief Andrea."

She didn't need a degree to tell her that Anton was not happy. Besides from the fact that he used her official-unofficial first name, it was his tone. It had lost the softness from earlier.

"I think I should go," Andy said, rising to leave, suddenly afraid of what she would hear if she remained any longer. She felt uneasy and needed to have Sam close by.

"So is that it princess?" Anton mocked bitterly. He remained seated, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny. "You've waited over twenty years to finally hear the truth and you walk away because you don't like what you are hearing? What is it that you find so distasteful, that Maurice loved you? Because he did!"

His outburst was stirring up a whirlwind of emotions inside of her, and not all of them were pleasant.

"Just like my mom did? A wonderful lady right? A regular Mother Teresa," she said sarcastically.

"Bella? I doubt she's even still alive," Anton said indifferently.

Andy looked at him horrified.

"What?" he said shrugging his shoulders. "I knew Bella better than anybody, I told your dad to stay away from her but he was smitten. In the end she broke his heart, and broke up the family. She walked away from you, from me and your dad and found herself a new love."

'_She met another man?'_ her mind said, almost disbelieving of the similarities with her new life.

"What do you think the first rule of this business is?" Anton continued undeterred by her outburst.

Andy remained transfixed, not saying a word. Anton turned towards one of his two goons.

"Hey Johnny!" he shouted. "What's the first rule of this business?"

"Never sample the merchandise," Randy responded a little too eagerly, causing Johnny to look on unimpressed.

"That's right. The first rule of this business is to never sample the merchandise. Not only are you losing a sale, but you end up a junkie. Bella ended up a junkie, she loved the drugs more than her family. Maurice took you away from the life she was leading, and I have to respect him for that, he gave you a good life. He was a good father and he loved you."

"We ate hotdogs," Andy whispered, daring her treacherous tongue to utter one of her private memories, fearful they were just a figment of her imagination.

"That's all you wanted to eat," Anton chuckled, his voice softening once more. "Everyday Maurice would try and coax you to eat something else, but all you wanted was hotdogs, so he let you have it. Although you were partial to the odd slice of pizza or spaghetti."

Andy smiled slightly, too embarrassed to admit that it was still one of her favourite things, although her food repertoire had expanded a great deal since.

"There's a lot I can tell you, and although I don't know everything I'm the best thing you've got. Your dad and I shared a lot, and if I could turn back the clock...' he took a deep breath, staring far away into the distance composing himself once more. It took longer to regain his composure this time around.

"Maurice was my best friend,' Anton said gruffly. 'Don't hate him. Hate me if you need to hate someone, but don't hate him.'

He blinked several times, and Andy was shocked to see tears in his eyes. She took a few steps back towards him.

"You're right, you'd better go," he said embarrassed, turning his face away from her suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the strength of his emotions.

Anton was lost for a moment staring at the restaurant, his one legitimate business. Giuseppe's Pizza Palace, which he bought, renovated and turned into his restaurant. A place he associated with happy times, which seemed a lifetime away from the misery he felt when he was left with his own thoughts.

"It's okay Uncle Anton," she said hoarsely, "It's okay to feel sad. I get sad too sometimes."

Andy came and sat back down, dragging her chair closer so they sat shoulder to shoulder. She tentatively reached out and held his hand. When he did not pull away, she held it a little tighter, squeezing it gently.

'I miss him kid,' Anton whispered, taking in a shaky breath.

"There's nothing wrong with missing him," she said squeezing his hand once more.

'I wish it were that simple kid."

"Simple is as simple as you make it," she smiled at him, her eyes becoming watery.

"Wise words kid, but it's not always so easy."

Andy simply nodded, whilst Anton Hill, drugs trafficker, murderer, and a man with a heart of stone cried non-stop for the first time since the death of his best friend and business partner.

* * *

><p>"<em>Five times I read that damn story. This is the fourth time this week I've read it to her. How hungry can a damn caterpillar be?' Anton said, throwing himself down on the couch.<em>

_Maurice laughed hard throwing him a can of beer, which he caught easily with one hand._

_"Yeah right, like you didn't enjoy it."_

_"This is not the life of a thirty something, red hot blooded bachelor. Reading stories about hungry caterpillars to some kid. Then she started with the questions."_

_He hooked his finger into the ring pull of his beer can, and tugged, before tipping the can so its contents emptied into his mouth._

"_She's inquisitive, that's all," Maurice said, ever the proud father. "She's going to be somebody important one day with a mind like hers, mark my words."_

"_Can you believe she asked me if the caterpillar had a name?" he asked shaking his head in disbelief. _

"_Yes I can. What name did you give?" Maurice asked amused._

"_Percy. It was the first thing that came to my head."_

_The two men started laughing, and Anton shook his head._

"_Hey she loves you to bits. It's a compliment really when she asks you questions," Maurice said smiling._

"_I would feel special, but the kid loves everybody, even Peppermint Wayne. She calls him uncle too. You may have to re-think letting her call everybody uncle. I mean Jimmy and Carlos is one thing, but Wayne!" Anton said._

_They both chuckled hard, thinking about Wayne, their sort of odd job man who had a severely twisted spine which caused him to limp, an odour problem, and an addiction to eating peppermints. The combination was somewhat sickly, and left a smell that lingered behind long after he had left the room._

"_Seriously man, thanks," Maurice said more seriously. "It's hard looking after her, and with Bella out of the picture, I have to be both her mom and dad."_

"_Have you heard from Bella?" Anton asked._

_Maurice shook his head and sighed. "No. Not since that night."_

_Anton nodded in understanding, watching Maurice lose himself in that bitter memory for several seconds before returning back to reality. _

"_I_ _can't believe she hasn't even contacted you," he said to Anton._

"_Me? Bella and I can't stand each other. I haven't spoken to her in ages."_

"_I loved her man, but now she's with Richie, and that's all she's concerned about. Doesn't give a damn about me or Andy for that matter."_

"_Good riddance," Anton spat, taking another gulp of beer. His loyalties lay with Maurice, much to Bella's annoyance._

"_So it's just you and me..." Maurice said resignedly, taking a slug of his beer._

"_And the kid," Anton added._

_They raised their cans and tapped them together, in an act of solidarity. _

"_Yeah, you, me and the kid against the world," Anton continued. "Fuck the Flanagan brothers, fuck Bella and fuck the establishment!"_

_Anton had an affinity with foul language, more so since Maurice banned him from using it in front of Andy. Maurice was sure he over compensated for it, as everything he said was laced with some sort of swear or cuss word. _

"_We are gonna be the next big thing one day. Anton Hill and Maurice Laville, the dynamic duo, a force to be reckoned with."_

"_Je n'en suis pas certain," he said softly to himself. "I don't know man..." Maurice said louder, contemplating Anton's words. He always rambled words in French when he was stressed or feeling overly emotional. Even the kid understood it, and sometimes they would babble in French together._

"_What don't you know?"_

"_If this is the kind of life my little girl should be in? We sleep in a barely furnished one bedroom apartment above a pizza restaurant. All I have in the world is what's in that shoe box, and some $200. What if something happens to me? I can't send her back to Bella, I need to keep her safe Anton, she's my heart.'_

"_I'd take care of her," he said truthfully, trying to reassure his best friend and business partner. Despite his misgivings the kid was like a daughter to him._

"_You can barely take care of yourself," Maurice said sarcastically._

_The best friends laughed amongst themselves, a friendship spanning two decades, that had seen them through their fair share of bother. _

"_Promise me you'll keep an eye on her if things go wrong? Keep her happy and safe," he said seriously._

"_Is this about the Flanagan brothers? They can't do shit, all talk and no action, pair of lousy motherfuckers," Anton said in his usual eloquent way._

"_It's not just about them. This is a dangerous business; we've had a few close calls already."_

"_Yeah, but things are different now, soon we'll be higher up the food chain. We've got the Mamma Jones gig, and if that goes well who knows? Trust me, we'll be big, I just know it and then you can give the kid everything you've never had, you know this normal family life you keep talking about. Maybe meet another lady and have a few more kids. Give it a chance Maurice, just give it a chance. I can't do this without you man, we're a team, and we're in this together."_

"_But you promise?"_

"_Yeah I promise. But it won't be necessary. Don't throw in the towel just yet; we are on our way to bigger and better things!"_

All that could be heard was the soft sobs of Anton, and Andy felt a lump in her throat, preventing her from saying anything else. Anton gripped her hand tighter, moving his thumb in circular motions, as he caught another ragged breath.

"I feel guilty kid, it was me that asked him to stick around. I should have let him go, but I knew I would miss him and you too much. The first big job we had went great, and we started to get more work sent our way. Maurice tried to save his cut of the money the best he could, while I partied and had a good time," he said with a far away look in his eye.

His crying was slowing down, and Anton ran a hand roughly over his face.

"Twice Bella appeared looking for a fix, as she realised we were becoming big players and twice your dad turned her away which I know was hard for him to do, but he wanted to protect you from her. We both did. On those occasions she didn't acknowledge me or even ask to see you. She looked a mess, and stunk to high heaven. Hard to believe she was crowned Miss Toronto in 1973 and 1974. She was a real looker back then, and had a queue of admirers from our door to half way down the street. She only had eyes for Maurice though, but it was doomed from the start. My sister was selfish and self-absorbed, and even before the drugs, had a different set of priorities to your dad."

"Sister?"

"My twin sister to be exact," Anton said, his eyes still teary.

"Oh," Andy whispered, unable to hide the surprise. "I didn't realise. I just assumed. So...you...um.." she stumbled on her words.

"Yeah, Kid...I'm your uncle in its true sense. You're a Hill."


	15. Chapter 15

**AN- Your reviews for the last chapter really blew me away, and it was the best start to a dreary and wet Monday morning. I am so glad you are liking the story, and I hope this chapter goes down just a well. Work has been a busy time for me at the moment, so I've only had my lunch breaks to work on this, and have had little chance to read any of the other stories out there over the last two weeks. Anyway, enough talking. Keep the reviews coming, but most of all...Enjoy!**

**AN2-To Jaylean, Linda P & Carol: Thanks for taking the time to review.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Back to Basics.<strong>

"You'd better go, call me or text me sometime... if you want," Anton said, trying to appear indifferent.

He scribbled down his number on a piece of paper, desperate not to lose the one thing that tied him to Maurice and his old life. Just yet.

"You text?" Andy asked sounding surprised, oblivious to the fact that the city's biggest drug trafficker was giving her his personal telephone number.

"Of course! Got to keep up with technology. What kind of businessman would I be if I couldn't text, tweet or email?" Anton said almost indignantly. "Besides my kids would never let me live it down."

"You got kids? How many?" Andy gasped.

_There was nothing in the file about kids. No one ever mentioned kids._

"Too many questions. You really do sound like a cop," Anton said, handing her the piece of paper with his hastily written scrawl.

"No...it just it means I have cousins."

"Yeah you do kid."

Andy took the piece of paper and shoved it into her coat pocket, unsure of how to end their first and most likely last meeting. She still wanted to know more, but knew she had to leave.

"Um...I can't do this again," Andy said nervously to him.

"That's a shame. There are things I would still like to tell you. Explain to you. Show you," Anton said calmly.

"I can't," Andy responded, shaking her head vehemently.

"You may never get this chance again kid. Everything you could ever possibly want to know, and I'm in a sharing mood," he said, giving a lop-sided smile.

"No. This has to end tonight," she said firmly.

"Can I ask why? he asked, staring at her.

"Lots of reasons," Andy said hurriedly, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Name one," Anton fired back.

"My dad."

"You mean your adopted dad?"

"No, I don't see him that way. He's just my dad and I love him."

"Sure you do kid," Anton said without any expression.

His answer wasn't quite what Andy expected. But then again, everything about that night was unexpected. Some more than others. There were no protests or shouting from Anton, no indifference, just something she found difficult to identify.

"So... I'm gonna go," Andy continued, before beginning to back away. "I'm sorry."

She began to walk quickly, avoiding eye contact with his two goons. Glancing one last time at Anton, who had not moved from where he was seated, she opened the restaurant door and stepped out into the night.

It was quiet outside and she welcomed the icy temperature on her face, which reminded her of the reality of the situation. The grocery store was now closed as she passed by, and glancing at her watch she realised Sam's shift was due to finish soon. As she made her way to the home she shared with him, Andy knew she needed to tell Sam what happened before she lost her nerve.

* * *

><p>"Well all I can say is I must really like you McNally," Sam grumbled, as he knelt down on the floor next to Andy.<p>

"What's that supposed to mean?" Andy replied, as she handed Sam the box on her lap, and began to plough through another.

She looked through the pile of papers, rustling a few in the air every so often, willing something to fall out.

"Aargh!" Andy groaned when she didn't find what she was looking for.

Sam sat back on his heels staring at her in amusement as she muttered to herself.

"Well aren't you going to ask me?" Sam teased.

"Ask you what?" Andy quizzed, as she concentrated on pulling out an old, battered leather brown bag from the cupboard she was raiding.

"Why I must really like you."

"Okay Sam, why must you really like me?" she asked, as she tugged on the bag's zip.

"Well..." he said leaning over to kiss her neck.

"Sam!" Andy squealed, "You're distracting me."

Andy pushed him away playfully with one hand.

"Just talk. No titillating," she warned. Weakly.

"Mmmm... titillating. I like the sound of that," he said seductively, kissing her on a spot behind her ear that he knew she liked.

"So..." Andy said much more firmly, and pushed him away, before the butterflies in her stomach began to take control. "You were going to tell me why you like me so much."

She continued to rummage through the leather bag, running her fingers through its many pockets and tutting when she came back empty handed.

"Well, I came home from work last night and not only was there nothing cooked as promised, there was no grocery shopping done either. Then to add insult to injury not only did you fall asleep in the middle of my bed you were wearing my favourite Crush t-shirt!"

Andy blushed and smiled apprehensively. She did try to stay awake, but the day's events caught up with her and she had fallen into a deep slumber, within minutes of her head hitting the pillow.

"I'm not finished!" Sam continued, laughing through his stern expression. "Then you wake me up 8am in the morning when I don't have to be at work for another five hours, to drop you at Tommy's!"

"Point taken smart ass," Andy said, leaning over to allow him to kiss her once more.

"What are we doing here anyway? Why are you looking through all these boxes and bags?" he asked.

"I'm looking for something, I'm sure my dad wouldn't have thrown it away," she groaned. "It has to be here somewhere," Andy concluded, as she tipped the bag's contents onto the carpeted floor.

"Should you be doing this without Tommy's permission?" Sam pressed.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Well the last time you did this you found papers from your adoption and look where that got you."

"Funny Sam," Andy droned, as she stuck out her tongue.

"I wasn't being funny, I just don't want you to get any nasty surprises that's all," he said.

_Too late for that._

"It wasn't a surprise; I knew all that already, it just brought up some painful memories. Besides my dad doesn't keep secrets from me," she added knowingly.

Sam closed his eyes and sitting back, rested his head against the back of the settee, and yawned.

"Alright," he said sleepily, "just don't take all day about it."

"Sam, please don't fall asleep! I'm looking for a small black cloth bag; I need you to help me find it."

"What's in it for me?" he said opening one eye.

"The knowledge that you've made me happy," she smiled, batting her eyelids.

"Is that all you got? You're not exactly selling it here," he smirked, closing his eye again.

"Sam!" Andy cried, shaking him. "Please?"

"Okay, Okay. Hand me that box over there," he grumbled.

Andy gave him a long kiss, and mouthing a thank you, handed Sam the box. They continued searching in silence, until Sam spoke up.

"So was it Traci?"

"Was what Traci?" Andy asked, as she dragged a small suitcase in between her outstretched legs, and flipped it open.

"The reason why I had to make do with a bowl of cereal as my evening meal last night? You and her were gossiping right?"

"No it wasn't Traci. Can we talk about this later Sam; I need to find this cloth bag."

"Oh, you mean this cloth bag?" Sam asked, dangling a small, velvet draw string pouch in the air.

"You found it!" Andy screamed relieved, grabbing it from his hands, and almost knocking him over.

"Woah! What's so special about this cloth bag?" he asked.

"This," Andy whispered, pulling it open and dropping two gold rings into the palm of her hand.

One was a solid plain band, and the other was set with several multi-coloured stones.

"I'm going to pawn them," she stated.

"Is Tommy okay with that?"

"Well they're mine technically, he gave them to me. Dad said that they were the only things of any value that he owned. They're Sophia's wedding and engagement rings."

"Don't you want them?"

"No," she said pulling a face and shaking her head.

"Andy," he said seriously. "You might regret it."

"I doubt that very much. Besides when would I ever wear something like this?" she asked, holding up the wedding ring between her thumb and index finger distastefully.

"Wow. It is pretty um..." Sam was struggling to find the right words to describe it.

"Ugly, tacky, vile. Would you like me to carry on?"

"Yeah... it isn't really you," he agreed.

"This ring is an example of 80's bling," Andy said sarcastically. "My dad said he had to save most of his salary for six months to get this for her. Sophia was very high maintenance."

"How much do you think it's worth?" Sam asked, staring as the stones shimmered in the light. "Are the stones real?"

"I don't know. I thought we could go to that new place on Dundas. Anything I make, is a bonus right? And if we get lucky, it just might be enough to make up the shortfall for dad's treatment next month."

Andy sighed and smiled at Sam, relieved to be closer if not all the way to raising the funds needed.

"I don't know how you do it?" Sam said in disbelief. "You said that you'd find a way and you did. You're resourceful I gotta say Andy," he said proudly.

"I'm a McNally that's why," she said defiantly.

_You're a Hill._

"Anyway... I was thinking afterwards we could have an early lunch. I need to talk to you."

"Yeah?" Sam asked standing and putting the boxes back into the cupboard, "about what?"

"About yesterday."

"Hey, I was only kidding about the no dinner jibe. You were obviously tired and you're still not fully recovered. It's really not that big a deal."

Andy nodded slowly and helped to put the rest of the boxes away.

"I had a really bad migraine last night. You didn't mind me sleeping in your bed did you? I should have gone to mine really."

"Hmm, let me think...a beautiful woman, partially clothed and lying in my bed? I could think of worse things McNally," he winked.

Andy looked at him and chewed her bottom lip with worry.

"Sam, we're good right? This thing between us is working isn't it?"

"What's brought this on?" he asked, suddenly very wide awake.

Sam handed the last box to Andy, as she stretched to place it back on the top shelf, and turned to face him.

"Andy? I thought we had worked through this. I like you and you like me. So unless something has changed dramatically since yesterday, then we're good."

"Sam, can I have a hug?" she asked sheepishly.

Sam took a step forward, and wrapped his arms around her waist, gently rubbing his thumbs on a small patch of skin were her tank top had ridden up her back. Andy locked her hands around his chest, and breathed in his scent.

"You know you mean the world to me don't you?" she whispered.

"You mean a lot to me too Andy. Are we moving too fast, is that what this is about?" Sam questioned.

"No," Andy replied shaking her head into his chest, enjoying the close contact.

"Okay," he said, continuing to rub his thumb on her back, waiting patiently for her to continue.

"I just want you to know that I really like you, and you make me feel safe and happy. For the first time in a long time I don't want to hide from a relationship. I never thought I could allow myself to feel this way about anybody, but I do."

She sighed and held Sam tighter, feeling content in his arms.

"Same here," Sam admitted before kissing her softly on the lips.

Sam stroked her hair as they continued to kiss, and stared at her lovingly, before pulling away.

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked reassuringly.

Andy nodded.

"Okay," he said kissing her one last time; "and don't worry, we'll push to get a good amount for those rings."

Andy nodded once more, before locking the door firmly behind them. Putting the rings into her back pocket and entwining her hands with his own, they both made their way to his truck in a comfortable silence.

* * *

><p>"So what you got?" Boyd asked, not really interested.<p>

He slumped himself in an empty chair and took a large gulp of coffee. Opening a bottle of pills, and taking two, he washed it down with another mouthful and rested his forehead on the desk in front of him.

"Rough night?" Jerry asked.

"Too much beer and cocktails, as well as a red head from Texas with far too much energy," Boyd groaned, as he dragged his hand through his hair and across his unshaven jaw.

"Seems like somebody is getting too old," Jerry smiled.

"I'm not getting too old; the ladies are just getting younger. Surely we can all relate to that. Well... maybe not Callaghan," Boyd quipped, unable to resist poking fun.

Both men laughed, while Luke looked on distastefully. It was a sorry state of affairs when Donovan Boyd, got more action than he did.

"Talk Callaghan," Boyd barked, waving with his hand for him to continue with his latest update.

"What do you know about Wayne Romano?" Luke asked, trying not to look annoyed.

"Never heard of the guy. Is that it?" Boyd said irritated.

"Wayne Romano is Mrs Carlucci's cousin; apparently he got Tony Carlucci his job with Hill. She claimed her cousin knew Hill from years ago."

"So?" Boyd sighed, not bothering to lift his head.

"Well for Hill to agree to take Carlucci on, Wayne Romano must be a pretty good friend," Luke concluded.

"Hill doesn't have friends," Boyd stated flatly.

"There might be a connection, seeing as Hill is the one thing that links these two guys, and for Carlucci to be given the role of his driver straight away suggests this Wayne Romano may be of interest to this investigation," Jerry added.

Boyd sat up in his seat, tapping his finger continuously on the desk as he thought about what he had just heard. Not one for idle talking, he jumped straight to the point.

"Any priors?" Boyd asked, his hangover temporarily gone.

"Nothing, not even a parking ticket," Jerry said, "So I'm reluctant to bring him in for questioning."

"Is he employed?" Boyd questioned.

"He works as a gardener, maintaining the council grounds, and community parks. But for the last few years has been solely responsible for the up keep of the gardens at the Mayor's office. He's been working the same job for twenty five years. He's a good employee, has never taken a day off sick and loves his job. So how would a man like that know Hill?"

"Hardly criminal behaviour," Boyd agreed. "Anything else?"

"No nothing, although I did speak to his neighbour. Romano's been on vacation and should be back any day soon."

"Where's Sammy today? Maybe he'll recognise the name. Or possibly McNally," Boyd said out aloud.

"He's due in a couple of hours. I could give McNally a call, or pay her a home visit," Luke offered, not wanting to feel left out.

"That won't be necessary," Boyd instructed, asserting his seniority. "We'll get Sammy to call her when he gets here."

"I can do it. I probably should give her my regards anyway. Show her some of that Callaghan charm. You're not the only one who can get the ladies. McNally is hot for me," Luke added, trying to save face, and claw back some of his pride.

Boyd scoffed, "I'm sure Sammy would have something to say about you hitting on his Rookie."

"No offence, but a guy like Sam Swarek is not what McNally is looking for," Luke said confidently. "Why have a beer, when you can have champagne?" he said conceitedly.

"Well he must be doing something right," Boyd said crassly.

Luke looked puzzled.

"Didn't you know?" Jerry asked, unable to resist finally twisting the knife. "Sam and McNally are an item."

_Yeah, that felt good._

"Yes, I'm well aware they're close, they're partners," Luke said, not fully comprehending.

"No Callaghan, they are sleeping with one another, and by the way Sammy rushes out of here after a shift, I'd say it's a regular thing," Boyd laughed.

"McNally's staying with him whilst she is recovering," Jerry added, watching with amusement as Luke's face became distorted.

"Anyway...let's wait for Sammy and see if he knows anything," Boyd said, finishing his coffee.

Boyd closed his eyes, Jerry smiled smugly and Luke sat festering at the news.

"Callaghan, you need to let Jerry do the talking with Sammy," Boyd added.

"Why?" Luke asked, turning to face Jerry, and then Boyd. "What are you insinuating?"

Jerry didn't quite know how to answer that, and cleared his throat. Boyd grunted, and without moving answered.

"He doesn't like you."

"Sammy has no reason to dislike me?" Luke said offended.

"That there is one reason Blondie. Don't call him Sammy."

Jerry felt uncomfortable. People said he lacked tact, when Boyd was like a hurricane leaving devastation in his wake.

"You guys call him Sammy," Luke commented.

"Are we done with the chit-chat?" Boyd moaned, losing interest in tormenting Luke.

No one said a word.

"Good," Boyd said, answering his own question, and closed his eyes once more.

* * *

><p>"Two thousand dollars! I can't believe it," Andy smiled deliriously, as she began to count the money once more. She spread out the notes, and began to fan herself like a Geisha girl.<p>

Sam smiled at her excitement, and continued to concentrate on the road ahead.

"So we'll have an early lunch? My treat," she said smiling, practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Do I get to pick where we eat?" Sam asked.

"We can go whatever you want."

They continued to drive in a comfortable silence, until they approached some traffic lights.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about?" Sam questioned, glancing at her every so often.

"I saw Anton Hill yesterday," Andy said casually.

"Really? Where?"

"At the grocery store."

Sam snorted and laughed loudly.

"Hill does his own shopping! Was he buying Low Carb bars? No, wait...he was buying frozen meals for one! Give me some dirt McNally," he said mischievously.

"No, he wasn't shopping," Andy said seriously.

The traffic lights were red, and stopping the truck, Sam turned to face her.

"So what was he doing there if he wasn't shopping?"

The lights turned green again, but Sam did not move the truck. He had stopped laughing, and tensed.

"He was waiting for me," Andy said, not looking at him.

"What? Did he threaten you or hurt you? Andy, I can't believe you are only telling me this now!" he shouted.

The driver waiting behind them blew his horn, and Sam put his truck into drive before moving forwards into the traffic. He was trying to control his level of anxiety.

"Andy, you need to start talking now!"

"He wanted to talk to me."

"So what? You just stood in the middle of the store having a conversation with him? Have you lost your mind?"

She could see he was getting annoyed, as the truck sped up.

"Are you trying to get us both killed? Can you slow down, or pull over. Please."

Sam turned the steering wheel harshly and parked, turning off the engine.

"What did he say to you?"

"Stuff."

"I'm not playing games here Andy. What. Did. He. Say?" Sam growled.

"Stuff about my dad."

"What about Tommy?"

"Not Tommy... Maurice."

"I don't know what you are saying Andy. I don't know what you mean."

"I was wrong alright!" she cried. "I was wrong when I thought he didn't remember my dad. He did, he remembered both of us."

She turned to look at him properly. His face was set with a grim expression as he stared straight ahead.

"Carry on," was all he said.

Andy let out a shaky breath, and continued.

"He knew things about him and about me, things that I would never have known."

"How long were you talking to him for?"

"A while."

"What's a while Andy? Two minutes, twenty minutes?" he snapped.

"I'm not sure exactly."

Andy hesitated when she saw his jaw clench. Sam wanted a straight answer, she could tell.

"It could have been four, maybe five hours."

Sam's eyes opened wide in astonishment, but he did not speak.

"We went to a coffee shop to talk; it was only across the street. Then we went to his restaurant."

"You gotta be kidding me right? Because the Andy I know would not be so stupid..."

"Sam, it wasn't like that," Andy interrupted.

Sam wasn't listening, and was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles went white. He closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths before he spoke again, still without looking at her.

"The Andy I know would not be so stupid," he said, placing emphasis on the word stupid, "to go unarmed and alone with a man like that."

"I'm not stupid Sam," Andy replied blinking away her tears.

"No? Well it sure as hell looks that way from where I am."

"We walked to his restaurant. I didn't get in his car," she said firmly.

"Well that's okay then. Because as we know, people never get hurt walking down the street," he said sarcastically.

Andy rolled her eyes, and let out a deep breath in frustration. She knew he'd be annoyed, angry even but he was being difficult, and she was trying her hardest not to make this turn into an argument.

Sam turned to look at her finally, and grabbed her arm.

"I don't want that man anywhere near you, do you hear me? That man is no joke."

"I'm not planning on seeing him any time soon, I've already told him that and he understands," Andy simply said.

"He understands does he? Well how considerate of him! What the hell is going on Andy? You're talking like the guy is a long-lost friend! I don't think you realise who and what you are dealing with here!"

"I do know what I am dealing with," she frowned, pulling her arm out of his grasp. "I don't regret speaking to him, and nothing you could say would make me change my mind. He told me things no one else could and I am grateful for that."

"He told you what you wanted to hear. He's manipulating you," Sam said, grabbing her arm once more.

"You don't even know what he told me!" Andy shouted.

"I don't need to know what he told you!" Sam shouted back.

He was shouting loud now, and Andy could feel her bottom lip quivering.

"What would he gain from that Sam? The things he told me was the truth and some of it wasn't all nice believe me," she said tearily.

Sam loosened his grip and placed his hand back on the steering wheel.

"Is that it Andy? Because I'm pretty pissed right now, so you may as well just get it all out there."

"He told me about my real mom, she was called Bella."

"Is she dead too?" Sam asked, his voice softening.

"Probably, he hasn't seen her in years."

"I suppose you're gonna look her up?"

Andy shook her head sadly.

"No. She's never been part of my life. She never wanted to be. I don't want to know."

Sam nodded, relieved by her response in some small way.

"He knew Bella really well, they grew up together," she continued.

"So they were friends?"

"She was his sister," she said with water filled eyes.

The silence was deafening.

"You're kidding me right?" Sam spluttered.

"No, I wish I was. Anton Hill is my uncle, my real blood uncle. I only found out yesterday. All the times I called him uncle, I just thought..." She shook her head.

Andy swallowed thickly, unable to fully say what was on her mind.

"I couldn't keep this from you Sam. Can't you see I'm trying to be open and honest with you?"

Sam remained silent, trying to make sense of what she had just said. Andy watched him waiting for a response, but got nothing. She stretched out her hand to touch him, and was saddened when he suddenly pulled away, started the engine and began to drive. Andy pulled her hand back from his rebuff and wrapped it around her waist instead, reminding her of the way he held her earlier. She continued to blink her tears away, and turned her head in his direction but his eyes were focussed on the road ahead.

"So where are we going to eat?" she asked.

Sam remained silent.

"I know you like that Italian Place near the courthouse, but if we go to Lou's Diner, they do an all day breakfast. It's still early enough for brunch. What do you say? I'm starving."

Andy knew she was rambling, she was panicking. This was the thing she was dreading since they agreed to embarked on this relationship, that once Sam really knew the real Andy, he would leave.

Andy didn't expect it to be because of this, but she knew it would hurt as bad as it did.

"Sam? Please talk to me."

He looked in her direction briefly, before turning away and continuing to drive.

"We're here," he said after a short while.

Andy took in her surroundings and saw they were back outside his house. She turned to face Sam, but he never spoke again.

Sam couldn't talk. His hands were frozen on the steering wheel; he couldn't catch his breath and his heart in his throat. Anton Hill was her uncle, and nothing would change that. He couldn't get beyond that train of thought. Sam didn't know what he was doing or why as he pulled outside his own house. He just knew he needed to get away before his mind exploded.

They both walked up the drive and Sam unlocked the door, allowing Andy to step inside first.

"Sam, I..."

Andy turned around, and Sam had picked up his work bag that was by the door and was leaving.

"Where are you going?" she whispered.

_Are you leaving me?_

"Work Andy, I'm going to work. The thing that pays the bills and puts a roof over both our heads," he said sharply.

"It's still early; I just thought we would talk about things."

"There's nothing to talk about, everything is crystal clear."

He turned and walked away, never looking back.

Andy was surprisingly calm and sighed quietly to herself, refusing to let herself cry.

* * *

><p>Sam sat outside in his truck disappointed in his reaction. He should have said more, told her all was well, but he couldn't. He felt sick that the woman whom he loved was related to the man he despised. How could he begin to explain that when she tried to touch him, all he saw was Hill's face cackling back at him.<p>

Angrily, he pressed his foot hard on to the gas pedal and drove to the one place where he would find some answers.

Sam parked his car, and stormed into the restaurant, almost shattering the door with the strength of his entrance.

"Well if it isn't Toronto's finest officer," Anton mocked as he sat at the bar and drank his coffee.

He looked at Sam curiously, wondering why he was there.

"I'm sorry," Anton continued, "we are not open for service until this evening. Would you like to make a reservation? We are fully booked, but I'm sure we could squeeze you in. For old times sake."

The two men stared, silently sizing up one another. Sam stared at Anton angrily, the strength of his breathing causing his chest to rise and fall rapidly.

"Stay the hell away from her!" Sam growled.

Johnny and Randy rose from where they were sitting, and Anton motioned for them to sit down, completely unaffected by their angry visitor.

"I've stuck to our little deal Sammy. If Emily's gone and got herself in trouble, you're knocking at the wrong door," Anton said.

"This is not about Emily, and you know it."

"You seem to have all the answers. Just exactly what am I supposed to know?"

"Andy. You stay away from her!" he screamed, realising he was close to losing it.

"Or what Sammy? Are you threatening me? Maybe I should give your Superintendent a call, a lovely lady. She assured me that my law suit was unnecessary the last time..."

Sam clenched his fists and glared at Anton, who simply sat back in his chair watching him with great interest.

"What's it to you anyway? Last time I looked, Andy was a grown woman."

"She's with me that's why. We're together."

Anton remained cool, not allowing his features to give anything away.

_So this was the boyfriend. Unbelievable!_

"Have you heard of the saying blood is thicker than water Officer Swarek? Very apt on this occasion, wouldn't you agree?"

Sam remained silent, knowing full well what was being implied, and not liking it one bit.

"I think this little outburst is something you should be telling Andy, don't you? Or maybe you already have, and that's why you're here. What did she say Sammy that left you running scared hmm? Was it that she actually had a nice time?" he goaded.

Sam marched closer towards him, and instantly Johnny and Randy were by his side.

"I'd think very carefully before you make your next move officer," he said casually.

He opened his newspaper and began to read the sports section with great interest.

"Oh and Sammy...you come to my restaurant again uninvited, make no mistakes, I will put a bullet in your head."

"Are you threatening a police officer, Hill?" Sam attacked. Hoping to find a reason to arrest him there and then.

"What police officer?" Anton questioned, looking around the room, and even taking the time to look under his newspaper. "You're not in uniform and you've shown me no badge. All I see is a trespasser on my premises."

Anton looked away, and continued to read. Taking out a pen from his shirt pocket, he began to complete a crossword puzzle.

After a minute he looked up, displaying a mock surprise that Sam was still there.

"Give Andy my regards," Anton said, trying his damnedest to antagonise Sam. "Tell her to stop by and see me any time, my door is always open."

* * *

><p>"Sammy!" Jerry said, "You're early man. I need to talk to you about..."<p>

"Not now!" Sam snapped.

He marched straight past Jerry into the locker room, and slammed the door behind him. Jerry followed and watched as Sam dropped his bag onto the floor, and punch his locker several times. Hard. Just as Jerry was about to comment, Sam punched the locker some more, adding a few kicks for good measure. Jerry raised an eyebrow, but knowing Sam well enough, knew he needed to wait until he got whatever it was out of his system.

Jerry took a seat on a nearby bench, waiting roughly seven minutes while Sam cursed, kicked and punched. He eventually wore himself out, bending forwards and bracing himself against the locker. He was breathing heavy, with a thick layer of sweat across his forehead, and his hands were bruised.

"What do you know about Wayne Romano?" Jerry asked, deciding not to mention the obvious.

"Is this the Carlucci cousin?" Sam asked, breathlessly.

Jerry nodded.

"I've never heard of him," he said, making his way over to a nearby sink.

"Hill never mentioned his name when you were undercover?"

"No."

"What about McNally? Do you think she..."

"Leave Andy out of this," he snapped, turning the tap, and letting the water fall on his bloody knuckles.

"I was just thinking."

"Don't. I don't want her dragged into this mess. She doesn't know him okay?"

"What's up Sammy?" Jerry asked.

He walked over towards his friend, leaning against the wall to face him. Sam remained subdued, watching the bloody water wash down the drain.

"I haven't seen you take it out on a locker in quite some time. You wanna talk buddy?" Jerry asked.

Sam closed his eyes for several seconds, and took a few deeps breaths.

"You ever wanted something so much, that it could end up costing you?" Sam questioned.

"That depends..."

"Thanks Jerry, always the font of knowledge," Sam griped. "Just forget I mentioned it."

"Hey man, give me a chance. I need more details than that."

"It's a long story," Sam shrugged.

"I've got time, and it's just you and me in here right now. A perfect opportunity."

"It's complicated..."

Jerry watched his friend closely.

"Listen... before I got with Traci, I was still pining for my ex, even though the relationship was a total mess," Jerry said, sensing what the problem was.

"I'm not pining for my ex, Jerry," he sighed.

"No but you're pining for McNally."

Sam looked at Jerry and then back to the running water without commenting.

"All I'm saying is despite the fact that my ex wife hates me, and my oldest friend who happens to be married to her sister refuses to talk to me, Traci is still the best thing that has happened to me. So the point I'm trying to make is what's more important? This 'thing' you don't want to lose or Andy?"

Sam made a desperate sweep of his eyes around the room, before he trusted himself to talk.

"She's doing things I don't agree with Jerry, things that could get her hurt. I can't protect her if she keeps putting herself in harm's way, and I feel sick to the stomach when I think of anything happening to her," Sam whispered, with a pained expression.

"Okay," Jerry said, trying to decipher the meaning in Sam's statement.

"When I got married, the night before my wedding, my own mother told me that there was still time to pull out. Nobody in my family took to my wife to be, but I wouldn't listen."

Jerry turned off the tap and handed Sam a hand towel.

"So anyway we got married, and three years later we were getting a divorce. It was messy, ugly, and I thought I would never recover."

"I take it your going somewhere with this?" Sam asked with a small smile, secretly interested in the anecdote.

"Yes. I needed to get married in order to realise that she wasn't the one for me. It was only then could I see what my family were saying," Jerry admitted.

"So you're saying I should leave Andy to make the biggest mistake of her life?" Sam said shaking his head. "I don't think I can do that."

"Well, two years ago, blowing your cover was the biggest mistake of her life, and look where that got her? As your partner and now something a lot more meaningful."

Sam reflected on his words, yet wasn't completely convinced.

"Sammy, if I never got married, I would have never got divorced..."

Sam was about to make a wisecrack, but stopped when Jerry gave him an annoyed look.

"If I never got divorced, I wouldn't have been the most depressed detective in the history of 15 division..."

Jerry placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, indicating he had more to say. Sam let him continue, as surprisingly his words were reassuring and thought provoking.

"And if I wasn't so miserable, Boyko wouldn't have sent me over to the academy as a trainer."

"Boyko was fed up of seeing you crying into your coffee. We all were."

Jerry smiled softly, and shrugged his shoulders unconcerned.

"But if he didn't do that then I would never have met the last batch of rookies or more importantly Traci, and found the reason to be happy again."

Sam let out a breath and nodded.

"Listen I don't need to know what's going on, but you and Andy have got something good. You're complete opposites, which is probably what attracted you to her in the first place. Don't try and change her."

"I'm not trying to change her."

"Maybe not, but you want her to approach things in a different way, and that's just not her. If you want my advice, you need to work with Andy and not against her. Maybe if she is around you long enough her ideas may change anyway. Being with Traci has changed me a lot, but she still accepts me for who I am."

"So now I'm taking relationship advice from Jerry? Wow! I've finally reached an all time low," Sam huffed.

"So to summarise dear friend," Jerry said cheerfully,"let Andy be Andy and Sammy be Sammy, but meet somewhere in between. If you wanna be together, you've got to talk to one another, listen and understand; but you don't have to always agree."

"No?"

"No. I spent three years trying to agree with everything to make my marriage work. In the end I forgot who I was, which is the worse thing anyone can do to themselves."

"When did you get so wise Jerry?" Sam quizzed.

Both men embraced each other, in a long overdue man hug.

"So...back to business," Jerry continued. "Wayne Romano?"

"Still don't know him man, but let me get changed and I'll look at what you've got, maybe there's something I can add."

Jerry nodded and began to leave the locker room.

"Hey Jerry..." Sam called out,"thanks."

"No problem. Just call me Doctor Phil," he joked as he opened the locker room door.

"Yeah, more like Doctor Jill," Sam added under his breath.

"Hey! I heard that!" Jerry cried.

"You were meant to!" Sam shouted back, and smiled.

* * *

><p>"What should I do Gran?" Andy asked, sitting at the edge of her bed.<p>

She picked up the photo on her bedside cabinet, and ran her thumb across Margaret's face. It had been a while since they had last spoken.

"He hates me Gran, he couldn't even look at me properly," she said to the photograph.

Andy finally allowed a few tears to fall, but did not bother to wipe them away.

"So Gran...I'm listening..."

Margaret McNally had taught her everything a decent women should know, in her eyes. She'd taught Andy to cook, grow vegetables,sew, knit and all the other skills a young lady required. Very little of which, she'd ever had to put into practice.

Margaret always had a solution for all life's problems, unfortunately finding out your uncle was a drug trafficker and hated by your boyfriend, was never one of them. Andy lay down on the bed bringing the photo with her, and placed it on her chest. Closing her eyes, she thought hard about what Margaret would say. If there was ever a problem, Margaret would always say to take things back to basics to find the answer.

'_Families stick together.' _

''Do birth families count Gran?''

_'Never a borrower or a lender be.' _

_"_I'm trying Gran, and apart from staying here with Sam, I've asked him for nothing. I've managed to pay for dad's treatment this month too."

'_Stick and Stones...'_

"I know he didn't mean those things."

'_Caught between a rock and a hard place.'_

"I know Gran, there's no perfect ending whatever I decide."

'_It could open a Pandora's Box.'_

"I know... it already has."

'_Always listen to you heart.'_

"I want to know more about Maurice, Gran. Tommy is still my dad, you are still my granny, and I love you both. I swear that will never change.

'_Forewarned is forearmed.'_

"_Exactly_. Why didn't we just talk about this when I was younger? It would have been so much easier."

'_Leave no stone unturned.'_

"If I do this Gran, I need to know it all, not just bits and pieces. But Sam won't approve, he doesn't understand why it's important to me."

'_If at first you don't succeed, try and try again.'_

"_You're_ right. I'll talk to him again; I won't let him walk away from me this time. I've got to make him understand what I'm thinking."

She jumped out of bed, and kissed the photo before putting it back on display.

"Thanks Gran, you always know what to say," Andy said, as she hurried back down stairs.

* * *

><p>Andy entered the barn unannounced. She decided against calling Sam and opted just to see him at work. She wasn't officially back herself for another few days, and all her friends were out on patrol. Although he wasn't due to start his shift yet, Andy knew Sam was there as she saw his truck in the car park.<p>

Making her way to the mens locker room, she saw Sam buttoning up his uniform shirt.

"Hey," he said, when he saw her.

"Hey yourself," Andy replied. "That looks nasty," she said gesturing to his hands.

"You should see the other guy," Sam chuckled.

"And would this guy happened to be grey, made from metal with a combination lock?" she asked confidently, as she took a seat.

"Yep. That sounds a lot like him," Sam agreed.

"I brought you lunch," Andy said handing him a Sandwich.

"Thanks," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Do you want me to move back to my apartment?" Andy asked, almost straight away.

"No."

He unwrapped the sandwich and began to eat in silence, offering Andy the remaining half which she took. They continued to eat, and Sam screwed up its plastic wrapping into a tight ball, slam dunking it into a nearby bin.

"I didn't mean to shout at you earlier, I just got scared," he said softly.

"I know."

"This thing with 'him'..." Sam stopped talking, and shook his head.

"Sam, I know it sounds crazy, but he won't hurt me."

"Well, it does sound crazy. You don't know him."

"You've always told me to trust my gut right? I need you to trust me on this, he won't hurt me."

"This. This is not easy for me Andy. I just don't know..."

Sam traced a line with his finger across the raised scar on her forehead, a constant reminder that he almost lost her.

"He didn't do this to me. He wouldn't have wanted this to happen," Andy said, knowing exactly what Sam was thinking.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I don't like the man, and I don't think I ever will. If Emily walked in here tomorrow with those files, I'd use it to put him away."

Andy nodded in understanding, but froze momentarily when another officer entered the locker room.

"This isn't really the best place to talk about him, but I know that there is more to him than meets the eye," she whispered.

They continued to talk in hushed voices.

"Like what?"

"That's what I would like to find out."

"Are you asking me for my approval to see him Andy?"

"No, I'm just letting you know," she said calmly.

"Why is it so important? It was so long ago...I'm trying to understand."

Andy waited until the officer left the room, before she continued to speak.

"My dad was French, real one hundred percent born in France," she said.

"I never knew that," Sam whispered.

"Neither did I. And you wanna know the funny thing? When I got home last night, I turned on the television, and watched some French channel. I don't know if some sort of switch has now been flicked on in my brain, but I totally understood what they were saying. I hated French at school, was never interested and felt miserable every time we had a lesson. I would always pretend to be sick. When dad was on a bender, and passed out on the floor, I would convince myself I needed to stay home a nurse him even though I knew he'd be sleeping it off most of the day, just so I could avoid class. I never revised for exams, and always did quite well, which made me more miserable. Now I know why," she tried to explain.

Andy turned and looked towards to door, grateful that no one else had entered.

"I'm starting to understand myself better, and I'm excited by it. That was from only one conversation with him. I can't avoid the subject no more, it's like I'm denying who I am in a way. Am I making sense?"

"I do see your point. I just wish there was another way. I don't like this one bit," Sam admitted.

"I know you don't. I'm not looking for a new family; I have dad, Traci, Chris, Dov and you. I would just like to talk to him a few more times, that's all."

"And what does he get out of this?"

"Closure, I guess. I'm sure it's the same for him too."

"Listen Andy, I'm not going to pretend that I'm ..." he was cut off by Andy kissing him on the lips.

Sam tried to keep focussed, but his hands caressed her jaw and he deepened the kiss. Andy pressed her forehead against his and sighed.

"I love you Sam," she said.

"I love you too."

"Do you? I was so afraid you would leave me this afternoon. I didn't ask for this to happen, and if we ever broke up I would like it to be for something I had done in the relationship, and not because of who I'm related to."

Sam reached over and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm in love with you Andy McNally," he said. "You never have to be afraid again, you know that right?" he asked. "I'll spend my life protecting you."

Sam lent his forehead against hers, as they held one another's gaze.

"We'll never agree on this which is okay. But I need you to have my back," Andy begged.

"I'll always have your back, you know that."

"What are you thinking?" he asked, noticing she had a dreamy look.

"That it's a good day. I've got the money for dad's treatment, and my man has come back."

"I hadn't gone Andy. I'm not going anywhere," Sam stated, brushing his lips across her own.

"I want to go and see him later. He might be at the restaurant," Andy said.

"Yeah, he's there," Sam said coldly, tensing against her body.

Andy narrowed her eyes suspiciously at that comment, and Sam frowned back.

"Catch up tonight?" she asked, deciding to leave any questioning for later.

They snuggled for a short while, before Sam kissed her one last time, and they both made their way out of the locker room.

* * *

><p>It was a little after five, by the time Andy arrived at the restaurant, after finally doing some grocery shopping and making a meal for when Sam finished work. There were a few waiting staff preparing for the evening, as she nervously opened the door.<p>

Anton was sat at a table in the middle of the room, looking through a pile of papers and tapping away on a calculator. He wore glasses, which gave him a different sort of look. They were gold, with small square rims which sat perched at the edge of his nose. Goons one and two turned as the door opened, and relaxed again when they saw it was her. Anton looked up, and although he tried to hold back, gave her a huge smile, which Andy returned and sent a small wave.

"Come in, come in," Anton said, pulling out a chair for her to take a seat.

"Hi Uncle Anton," she said quietly.

_Music to his ears._

"Hey kid, glad you stopped by."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"I just thought... if you're not too busy...and it's not too late, that we could spend a few hours together before you leave for the evening. Talk some more. If that's okay with you."

"It's more than okay. Can I just..." he pointed to the papers on his desk, and Andy nodded.

He tapped away for another ten minutes before turning to Andy, and giving her his full attention.

They spoke for a while about random things, but neither mentioned Sam.

"You eaten?" he asked, and Andy shook her head.

He picked up his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Lay and extra place for dinner, we've got company," he said to the person on the other end.

"No, nothing fancy...whatever you've made is fine. Yeah...it's Andy," he continued.

Anton spoke a little while longer and ended the call. He rose and put on in his coat, making his way to the entrance, and Andy followed.

Johnny walked ahead and went to the driver's seat while Randy held open the passenger door, watching Anton climb inside. He turned and stared pensively at Andy.

"You still coming?" Anton questioned. "A once in a lifetime offer," he continued, sticking his head out of the open door.

Andy looked apprehensively.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked.

"You don't," Anton said, "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," Andy replied.

"Well then, it seems to me, we are both on an equal footing."

Andy wasn't so convinced looking at his two bodyguards.

"So are you coming or what?" he asked again. "I'm cold and haven't eaten."

"Where are we going?"

"To my place for dinner."

"Your place?"

"My home. My wife Priscilla and two of my four kids are there, so not quite a full house. They'd love to meet you, especially Priscilla. She hasn't seen you since you were a little girl."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, it will be fun, and if there's time, I'll see if I can find a photo or two."

Andy's eyes lit up.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you do know that?"

Andy nodded.

"So what are we waiting for? It's time to meet the Hills."

Andy followed him into the back seat, and Randy closed the door, before going back inside the restaurant.

"He's not coming?" she asked, a little relieved.

"No, this is where he takes over," Anton replied, nodding his head towards Johnny. "Very few people know where I live," he added.

Anton leaned over Andy, and clipped the seatbelt into her holder, tugging at it a few times to make sure it was secure.

"I need to keep you safe," he said almost shyly.

Anton then sat back in the leather seats and relaxed as car sped off into the night.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN- Thanking you all for the reviews, they made my week. I have to confess that this chapter is long, and I apologise beforehand to those of you that like shorter chapters, but it seems as the story moves on, the length of the chapters do too! **

**It's flashback time again, and these flashbacks all take place at various points within the first three years after Maurice's death and Andy's adoption, but are not in chronological order. I'm sure you all would have worked that out anyway, but just in case. As always sit back, relax, read and review, but most importantly... enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: And Then There Were Three.<strong>

_"Finally!" Priscilla said crossly. "You're late Anton, and the children are already in bed. We've hardly seen you all week, and you said you would be back early tonight."_

_"Sorry, Sorry, I just got caught up at work," he replied breathlessly._

_"Well, you're home now, and we agreed no talking about work around the children. Remember?"_

_"The children are asleep," Anton said kissing his wife on her head, "and I was just explaining why I was late, which is why mentioned work," he said calmly, squeezing her waist affectionately._

_"Well dinner is probably ruined. It's been in the oven for hours," she grumbled, relaxing a little at his touch._

_Anton opened the oven door, to a rather dried out looking casserole, but made no comment. Evening time was family time, where he was a husband, father and nothing more. Priscilla knew what he did for a living, even accepted it, but did not like to talk about it. As far as her friends and neighbours were concerned Anton Hill was a restaurateur, but also an importer of goods from time to time. _

_Not so completely far from the truth. _

_They led a relatively normal life, were not extravagant and blended nicely into their local community._

_"Dinner looks fine," Anton continued, trying to lighten the mood, as he plated up for both of them._

_Priscilla was still annoyed. Anton had been home late every night this week, and he promised to be home early. But there was a big shipment coming in from South America and he needed to oversee things._

_They ate in silence, and he glanced at his wife every so often, whose face told him she was still upset. _

_"I'm sorry," Anton said softly, after some time. "I know I've not been around much."_

_Priscilla sighed heavily, and continued eating without responding._

_"There's a lot of work that needs doing, and only I can do it," he explained._

_"You're the boss Anton. I don't understand why you can't get one of the others to do it," she said irritably. _

_"Because I don't trust them," Anton said frankly. "Carlos is going straight, Wayne has a respectable job now and Jimmy is laying low in Colombia. The team is broken."_

_"Well find someone you do trust," Priscilla urged. "When it was you and Maurice, you split things equally, I saw you more," Priscilla said._

_Anton's mood turned dark, narrowing his eyes at his wife's words._

_"Well there is no me and Maurice," he snapped. "It hasn't been that way for quite some time," he added, throwing his fork down onto his plate._

_"Baby I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," Priscilla said, realising the inappropriateness of her comment._

_"No? Well how did you mean it?" he asked angrily._

_Anton got up from his seat, and scraped the food into the trash, no longer hungry. That feeling in his chest was there again. An indescribable, twisting pain whenever Maurice's name was mentioned. Taking a glass from the cupboard and turning on the tap, Anton filled it with cold water. He took at large gulp, waiting for the feeling to disappear._

_"Talk to me Anton," Priscilla pleaded. "You need to talk about this, about Maurice."_

_"Don't. Just don't," he said, as the pain in his chest grew more intense._

_No matter how hard Priscilla tried she could not get Anton to talk about Maurice. It was as if he had erased that part of his life, their life even from his memory._

_"I'm going to bed," Anton said after a while, leaving her sitting alone in the kitchen._

_Priscilla stayed there a while longer contemplating the change in her husband, and what could be done to help him recover, but had no answers. After cleaning up, and washing the last of the dishes, Priscilla made her way to bed too._

They drove for an hour outside of the city, until they reached a quiet, suburban area. Andy tried to concentrate on where they were going, but the amount of adrenaline running through her body, was effecting her concentration. Anton remained silent throughout the entire journey, lost in his own private thoughts.

Eventually, the car pulled up outside a large, but unassuming house. Nothing about it screamed Anton Hill.

In fact it was rather ordinary.

Anton climbed out of the car first, and in a display of chivalry that reminded her of Sam, he walked around to her side and opened the door. She smiled to herself, imagining Sam's face at the comparison, and then immediately frowned. Although they had come to some sort of understanding, Andy couldn't help but think that Sam was going to be pissed off that she had accepted a ride without any backup.

Both Anton and Andy stood huddled together, watching the car back out of the drive, before pulling away and driving off. Anton looked at Andy and smiled.

"This is it, this is my home," he said.

An elderly neighbour next door who was putting out his trash, waved at Anton enthusiastically.

"Good evening Mr Lewinski, how are you?" Anton asked loudly, walking closer towards the house.

"I'm fine son," he replied, causing Andy to smile to herself, at his term of endearment.

"Glad to hear it. I'm just going to enjoy the rest of the evening with my family."

The old man nodded and smiled.

"Is this another daughter?" he said, peering at Andy closely through his spectacles. "I've never seen her before. Has she been away studying?" he continued.

"No, she's my niece," Anton responded, as he walked closer towards the old man.

Andy smiled awkwardly, she'd never been anybody's niece before. It was a strange feeling, almost uncomfortable yet nice at the same time.

"Well I knew she had to be a relative," he commented, "she's the spitting image of your children."

Anton turned to face her and nodded in agreement. They said their goodbyes, and placing his hand in the small of her back, he guided Andy towards the house.

"Will you be at the neighbourhood watch committee meeting tomorrow?" Mr Lewinski shouted after them, causing Anton to stop.

"I'll try Mr Lewinski, but my wife will definitely be there," he said smiling.

"Neighbourhood watch?" Andy whispered to Anton. "They should be watching you," she said cheekily.

"Watch it kid," Anton said, chuckling. "I'm a pillar of society... around these parts anyway."

Andy could see the curtains of the house twitching, and a lady with dark wavy hair smiled at her warmly in the door way. She was elegantly dressed, wearing a cashmere jumper, trousers, and low heeled shoes. She had obviously been cooking, as she wore an apron and was wiping her hands on a towel before pulling Andy into a warm embrace, that reminded her of Margaret McNally.

"Welcome home Andy, it's been a long time since I've last seen you."

Priscilla stepped back and looked at her joyfully, blinking away her tears of happiness.

"I'm your Aunty Priscilla, Anton's wife," she announced, enveloping her into another hug. "I'm so glad you're here," she whispered into Andy's ear.

_Welcome home?_ Andy looked at her completely tongue tied, she certainly was not what she was expected. She seemed normal, like a normal mother and wife should be.

Andy nodded, blinking several times in response.

She watched as Anton leaned over and kissed his wife tenderly on the top of her head. Their eyes locked briefly as his hand curled around her waist.

"Dinner smells nice," Anton said, releasing his hold and handing her his coat. "Where are the others?"

"In the living room, I didn't want them to overwhelm her."

"Come on in kid," he said, handing his wife Andy's coat too. "You can meet the clan later."

Andy nodded, and let out a shaky breath.

Anton held out a hand, and Andy automatically slipped her hand into his, as he led her through the house. She felt calm holding his hand, if not a little bit strange, but it was the only familiar thing that she could hold on to at that moment in time. And as if Anton had some innate sixth sense, he squeezed her hand reassuringly, which Andy reciprocated back.

"We'll be in the back room, let us know when dinner is ready," he called over his shoulder to his wife.

It was as if time had stood still as Priscilla watched the two of them walking close to one another. It was a scene she had seen several times in the past, except Andy was a little girl and Anton was younger, cockier and invincible. Seeing his interaction with the little girl, was the one thing that attracted her to him all them years ago. It was something she held on to when he was having his dark and angry moments. They weren't so often these days, and had virtually disappeared now he had re-discovered Andy.

Priscilla shook her head, feeling nervous for the two of them, but Anton more so. She was hopeful that tonight would be a success, it was important.

Smiling to herself, and trying to remain positive, Priscilla made her way back into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Anton ushered Andy into a small room, that looked homely, and well lived in. There was a well worn settee, facing a large screen television, with a large collection of movies. To the left was a music system, with an array of CDs neatly stacked up. They were mostly jazz bands Andy noted as her fingers traced along the names, although there were some more mainstream artists such as Lionel Richie, Michael Bolton and Phil Collins. She couldn't help think that it was strange that Anton should listen to music, even though it was a very normal thing to do.<p>

"This is my hideout, where I come to think and play the odd game of poker. But mostly to think," Anton said interrupting her internal dialogue with herself.

Andy nodded, her finger hovering over a Justin Bieber CD.

"Justin Bieber! Really?" she asked, undecided as to whether she should laugh or congratulate Anton on his coolness.

"That's definitely Tina's. She's obviously been in here without me knowing," he grumbled fondly. "She has me wrapped around her little finger that one."

"One of your children?"

"Yeah one of them. My youngest, and probably the most like me. She arrived a little later in life, and was totally unexpected," he admitted.

Anton wandered over to a small fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer, lightly shaking one to get Andy's attention.

"Is beer okay?" he asked.

Andy nodded, gratefully accepting the cold bottle. Having something to hold allowed her to keep her nerves under better control.

"You could put something on," Anton suggested, pointing to his music collection. He settled himself into the settee, and took a cigar from a small container that sat on the coffee table, rolling it between his fingers.

Andy chose an Ella Fitzgerald album, relaxing as her sultry voice filled the room. She continued to stroll around, taking it all in. Andy stopped to stare at four baby photos on the wall. It was hard to tell what sex they were, they were just chubby babies.

"Why does this one.." she started, tapping her nail on the photo of a dark haired child.

"Christopher?" Anton asked, leaning forward for a better view.

"Sorry, Christopher. How is it that in this photo he is a few years old, and the other children are only a couple of months old," she inquired.

"You're sharp kid," he smiled, somewhat impressed. "I wasn't around for his birth, so it was my first opportunity to get a shot."

"That's a shame," Andy said, but did not ask why.

"Yeah, it was. But we're close, closer than any of the others in many ways. He's sensitive soul, likes to talk things through."

"Guess it must run in the family," Andy reflected.

"I guess it does."

'So...what happened to Maurice?" Andy whispered, almost afraid of what she might hear.

"What did they tell you?" he said lighting up the cigar.

"Didn't you smoke cigarettes?" she asked, a flash of a two second memory popping into her mind.

"Haven't smoked them in years, I'm a cigar man now," he said bemused.

"Strange that I remember that huh?" Andy questioned, shaking the head at the bizarre way her mind worked.

''So...what did they say?" he repeated, pulling Andy from her thoughts.

"Nothing, but I was only five, so there was only so much I would have understood, I guess."

Her mind went back to her conversations with Tommy. " I mean… I knew he was shot, and that he was dead, if that's what you're asking."

"They told you he was dead? Just like that?" Anton looked disgusted.

"Yes. Well no, not in so many words. As I got older I just took it to mean he was dead. They told me he was sleeping."

Anton was lost in his thoughts again, something which Andy had noticed him do several times since they had met. He closed his eyes, opening them once more seeming to bring him out of his trance. Patting the space next to him for her to take a seat, Anton pulled out a photo album from behind a large cushion, causing Andy's heart to flutter erratically. He turned a few pages, until he found what he was looking for. Anton turned the photo album so it lay on a thigh each, allowing Andy could get a better view. He already knew what it looked like, he had seen it a million times before.

"This..." Anton said wearily, "is Bella."

_Oh my_..._ she was beautiful._

Bella wore a diamanté crown on a head of blonde, soft long curls that cascaded past her shoulders. She was posing with her hands on her hips, and one slender leg bent and poised in front off the other, which seemed to go on forever. She was wearing a two piece bathing costume, in a brilliant blue that matched her eyes, and a sash draped across her shoulder and torso which read Miss Toronto 1973.

"Wow," was all that Andy managed to say, immediately recognising where she had inherited her nose from.

"Yeah, she was pretty stunning right? This is the Bella I try to hold on to when I think about her," Anton said, taking another puff from his cigar. "Although, I've long stopped thinking about her."

Andy found his bluntness refreshing, but it still was hard to get used to.

"When did you last see her?" she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the photo.

"Twenty years ago."

"That long?"

"Seems like it was only yesterday if I'm being honest. But that was Bella for you, breeze in and breeze out."

"So she never said where she was living?"

"Bella said she leaving for New York, although I doubt she ever made it," he shrugged.

"Don't you ever wonder if she did make it?"

"No."

_"Alright! Alright!" Anton moaned loudly, climbing out of the bed, that he only just crawled into a hour earlier._

_"It's 2am," Priscilla groaned, turning her head to stare at the clock that sat on the bedside table. "Who could be knocking the door at this time of night?"_

_Anton rolled out of bed, and went to the window. He wasn't able to see who it was through the heavy rain, but was able to make out a taxi on his drive. Its engine was still running._

_"Who is it?" Priscilla yawned, sitting up and putting on her dressing gown. "Is it the police?" she asked, suddenly worried._

_"I don't know, but it's not the cops," Anton said, suddenly alert. "Go to the children's room and lock the door. Don't come out until I say," he instructed._

_Priscilla nodded and hurried to where her two small children were asleep. Anton took his gun from the lock box, and made his way down stairs barefoot, careful not to make a sound. The knocking continued, more frantic this time._

_"Who is it?" Anton asked._

_"It's me Anton, it's me Bella. Open the door."_

_Anton stood still momentarily shocked, but her continued knocking brought him out of his daze, as he placed the gun on the table in the hallway, and unlocked the door._

_"Why didn't you tell me?" Bella screamed at Anton, as soon as he opened the door._

_She pounded her fists against his chest, swearing and weeping uncontrollably. Bella dug her fingers into his t-shirt, almost tearing it, as she continued to cry._

_"Tell you what?" Anton said, completely unmoved by her display of emotion._

_"That Maurice was dead!"_

_"And I would tell you that because..." he said, conscious that the feeling he hated, had returned to his chest for a second time in only a matter of days._

_"I had a right to know, we were together once. That should count for something. I shouldn't have found out from Carlos," she cried. "You should have told me!"_

_"What was it Bella, hmm? Came looking for a little cash and realised he wasn't there? Because let's face it that's only when you think about him right?"_

_Bella looked away from his accusing eyes, her tears flowing freely._

_"That's not true," she said tearfully, "I loved him."_

_"Whatever," Anton said. "Did you love him more before Richie beat him to a pulp or after?"_

_Bella ran both hands through her greasy and knotted hair, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from swaying._

_"How's Richie by the way?" Anton asked bitterly._

_Priscilla hearing the commotion, stood at the top of the stairs watching._

_"What do you want to say Anton?" Bella spoke, opening her eyes to look at him. "I told you so? Say it, I don't care."_

_"I know you don't care, your crocodile tears may fool others but they don't fool me. Take a long look at yourself Bella, you're a mess. You're high as a kite and you're drunk," Anton spat, shaking his head._

_"And you should be helping me, but it was always about Maurice! Maurice! Maurice!" she said in a raised voice. "To hell with Bella right? After all I'm only your sister!" she screamed into his face._

_"No Bella, It was always about Andy, and for Maurice it was always about Andy," he said coldly. "For you it was always about yourself. How many times were we supposed to keep helping you?"_

_Bella lunged at him, and Anton grabbed her by both wrists, shaking her hard._

_"You stupid, selfish bitch!" he cried, "Don't you realise the things you've done to your family?"_

_Priscilla, came down the stairs and stood by her husband, gently releasing his grip from Bella's arms._

_"Oh, if it isn't the lady of the house," Bella slurred mockingly._

_"I'd like you to leave, please," Priscilla said curtly. "The children are trying to sleep, and you are disturbing the neighbours."_

_"Screw your neighbours!" Bella deliberately screamed at the top of her voice._

_"Beat it! Do you hear me?" Priscilla hissed, standing in front of Anton._

_"Children?" Bella questioned, latching onto that one word, in her drug induced haze. "Is my baby girl awake? Where's Andy?" she asked, disregarding Priscilla's request._

_Bella push her way further into the hallway, shouting at the top of her voice._

_"Andrea! Andy! Your mommy's here."_

_Anton looked at his wife, pained at the mere mention of the little girl's name._

_"Get out of here now," Priscilla warned, her tone dropping._

_"I want to see Andy. I have every right," Bella said indignantly._

_"Maurice has been dead for three years and now you want to see Andy? You've got some nerve Bella," she said pushing her back towards the door._

_"I didn't know, nobody told me," she protested. "I mean...I think that cop did say something about me taking her back, but I was having a bad day..."_

_Bella furrowed her brow. "Boy or boy! My memory is a little..." she laughed nervously to herself. "You know I'm forgetful. Maybe I did hear something after all ..." _

_She lent against the door frame, allowing it to support her weary body and sighed loudly. Bella wiped her hand under her runny nose, she was coming down from her high._

_Priscilla looked at her sister in law up and down, before shaking her head._

_"You disgust me Bella. You haven't changed, still full of self pity and denial. You could never commit to anything that involved too much effort on your part. It's about time you grew up."_

_"So you think you are better than me because you managed to trick my poor brother to marry you? You were nothing before he came along, just a cheap waitress earning five bucks and hour! That's right..." she laughed manically, "...flashing your stash for cash."_

_Priscilla slapped her hard across the face, that failed to register any coherent response from Bella. _

_"Can't you see what all this is doing to him?" she said pointing at her husband. "You being here is just making things worse."_

_Anton went and sat at the foot of the stairs and closed his eyes, feeling the pain in his chest starting to subside. Just when he thought he had a control of things, and was finally able to function once more, Bella had managed to stir up feelings._

_"Andy!" Bella called again, "wake up pumpkin! Your mommy's here and there's someone I want you to meet."_

_Anton looked up, focussing his eyes on movement behind his sister, as she beckoned somebody closer. He saw a boy, no more than four, standing close to Bella. She roughly dragged him into view, growing impatient at his slowness. The boy had jet black hair and large brown eyes, and instantly Anton knew. Instantly the pain returned to his chest. Priscilla turned to her husband, shocked into realisation also._

_"This is Christopher," Bella announced._

_Anton looked at the little boy, and looked back to Bella unable to speak. He was looking at Maurice, he was looking at Andy._

_"Say hello to your uncle," she said shaking him to life._

_The little boy remained silent, fear clearly written all over his face._

_"Listen, I can't deal with him at the moment," Bella said pushing Christopher further forwards. "I figured that seeing as you already have Andy you could take him too. They can get to know one another. Just for a while, and then once I'm settled I could come and get them both. He's quiet kid, and doesn't eat much so he won't be no trouble."_

_Bella pulled up her left sleeve and began to itch her arm, unconcerned that it was peppered with needle marks and bruises._

_"I've got a friend down in New York, who says I could make a lot of money modelling. I still weigh the same, and I can still turn heads, so I figured why not?"_

_Priscilla stared at Bella, wondering when she last looked at herself in a mirror. Sure she could still turn heads, but not for the reasons she had just cited. She turned towards her husband, waiting for some input, but he was completely engrossed with Christopher. Anton sat staring at the little boy, who stood staring back. He looked like he hadn't seen a bar of soap in a while. Or a good meal._

_"How?" was all Anton managed to say._

_"It was a one time thing," Bella said, waving her hands dismissively. "I told Richie it was his, and for a while he believed me, but as he got bigger, he had his doubts."_

_There was no doubt who this boys father was, no doubt at all._

_"So anyway," she continued hurriedly, "I'm a bit short of cash. I need to get some new outfits for the photo shoot, pay for my flights and there's still the taxi to pay for," she gestured at the vehicle still rumbling on the drive._

_She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve, tapping her foot impatiently._

_"So...you got the money?"_

_Anton nodded to Priscilla, who went into his office. _

_"I know you're not going to New York," Anton said flatly._

_"Yeah, sure I am," she said, scratching her scalp. "What's taking her so long?" she asked staring in the direction Priscilla had went._

_"Why didn't you tell Maurice?" he whispered._

_Just saying his name still hurt so much._

_"I was going to, but him and Richie got into that big fight. It just seemed easier to say nothing."_

_Bella shrugged, pushing the little boy further forwards towards Anton, when she saw he was migrating back towards her. Anton and Bella remained silent. There were no hugs, no kisses, no I'll see you soon. She almost pounced on Priscilla when she returned, grabbing the cash from her hands._

_"There's $900 there. There wasn't any more," Priscilla said hesitantly, unsure if it was too much money. She knew this money would be going straight on drugs._

_"That's fine," Bella said, already walking away towards the waiting taxi. She had a sudden spring in her step._

_"Good luck with the modelling," Priscilla added._

_"What? Oh yeah...thanks."_

_Climbing into the taxi, and without looking back, all three watched as it drove off into the night, taking Bella with it._

"And she never tried to contact you in all that time?" Andy asked, trying to get Anton's attention.

He was lost in some sort of memory and had been silent for some time. She used that moment to stare at the photo more closely, and as hard as she tried, could not remember anything about this woman.

"No, not once and I never bothered to look," he said as he stubbed out his cigar.

_"_It_ w_as about a year after Maurice's death when I first saw you. I thought I was going mad, and by the time I got past the shock you had disappeared," he said suddenly. I suppose It was because I was still grieving for Maurice, and I couldn't think straight. You were walking with an older woman and you were smiling and laughing. You didn't seem to recognise me as I followed you to the bus stop. I didn't know what to do, and decided to just walk over and snatch you from the old lady. But when I saw you sitting on her lap you seemed content and at ease. You were blabbering away as you normally did," he recounted, stopping only to tip back the bottle of beer in his mouth and draining a third of its contents.

"But it was the old lady that made it difficult, she looked at you with such love in her eyes. She let you talk, and even asked you questions which made you talk even more. I realised then she was in it for the long haul, she was never gonna let you go or leave you. As I stood there debating with myself, the bus arrived and you were gone. Just like that. Gone."

"So you walked away?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could say I walked away. I realised you had what your dad wanted you to have, a loving family. I could have given you that but I thought it was best."

It was Andy's turn to drink from her bottle, contemplating his words as she sunk back against the cushions. It may have been the beer or the music playing but she felt calm, and strangely comforted by his confession.

"Did I do wrong? Were you unhappy?" he asked, suddenly aware she was sitting there, with the bottle pressed against her forehead, as she let out a breath.

"No," she whispered. "I don't know. I was happy but... She did leave me the old lady."

Anton looked at her confused.

"She died."

"We all gotta die kid," he said logically. "One of the few guarantees in this life."

"I miss her," Andy sighed. "After almost fifteen years, I still miss her as if it were just yesterday. She was my granny, mother and best friend all rolled into one," she reminisced.

"It's been twenty four years, since Maurice died, and you know a day doesn't pass when he doesn't cross my mind, sometimes at the strangest times. But as he would always say, 'C'est la vie' when we had a bad day..."

Anton leaned back also, placing his legs on the coffee table in front of him, and an arm behind his head.

"Swarek thinks I'm bad for you," he said casually. "But there's some things an outsider just can't understand."

"You saw Sam?" Andy asked, grateful for the change in topic.

"Yeah, we 'bumped' into one another earlier today," he revealed.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"That sounds very accusatory. I did nothing," Anton said as he drank some more of his beer.

"Something happened, I know it did. I won't let you use me to hurt him. If that's the case I'll walk out of that door now," she said adamantly.

Anton rolled his eyes, and softly hummed along to the music, to prevent his tongue from telling his niece exactly what he thought of her boyfriend.

"I'm serious Uncle Anton. Sam is very important to me and is my rock. I love him."

"Men like Swarek don't understand people like us."

"What are we exactly?"

"We are the shades of grey in life. Not quite black, not quite white, kinda somewhere in between."

"That's just an excuse; there's always a right and a wrong way," Andy said with certainty.

"So us being here now, is it right or wrong?" Anton questioned.

Andy was at a loss for what to say, and blinked.

"Exactly," Anton said, not waiting for a response. "We are shades of grey," he reiterated, rubbing his thumb over the ring on his finger.

"People like Swarek would say this is wrong, however it can't be too wrong if I get a chance to put things right, and you are getting the answers you are looking for."

Andy didn't know what to say, he had a way of making her question the things she believed in.

"You're still young kid. When you get to my age, you'll understand how complicated life can really be, and sometimes you are on a fast train that just won't stop, so you just have to hang on and see where it takes you."

"You could jump off the train," Andy commented, wondering what exactly Anton was referring to.

"Yeah, but it would be a mess travelling at those sort of speeds. Besides, you'd leave a lot of people behind who were relying on you."

Anton finished his beer and placed it on the table.

"Let me present you with all the facts, the important parts anyway, and you decide whether this journey of discovery was worth it or not. Not Swarek, not me, just you. That's all I ask. Nothing more, nothing less. Deal?" he asked seriously.

"Deal."

"So you wanna see another picture?" he asked cheerily, turning several more pages.

Andy nodded, and gasped when she saw a photo of a much younger Anton standing next to a handsome and tall man. They were both smiling broadly at the camera, with their arm slung around one another's shoulder.

"That's him?" she whispered, tracing his face with her fingertips.

_That was the man in her dreams._

"Yeah, that's Maurice," he replied. "We were at the beach, with a few friends. It was a heatwave that day...I got sunburnt all across my back. Maurice came prepared for every eventuality as usual," Anton smiled wistfully. "He had sunblock, bottles of water, shades, band aids, headache tablets, diarrhoea tablets, hand wipes, toys, several changes of clothes and even a flash light. I teased him mercilessly at his need to plan, and came with just a towel. I think Carlos took that picture..."

"You look happy, you both do," Andy commented.

"It was a fun day, everyone had let their hair down and was having a great time. I was over the moon that your aunt had finally agreed to go on a date with me, and came to the beach too. You cried, when it was time to go home, and refused to come out of the water. So we all sat around for a few more hours to keep you happy, and I was pleased than Priscilla stayed too. I can make you a copy if you want? In fact I'll copy all the photos I have of him, there are only a few though."

Andy nodded excitedly, leaned forward and hugged Anton tight, not caring that this was breaking all her rules about getting too close to him.

"I'd really like that," she said, before pulling away quickly.

"Do you wanna see some more pictures?" he asked.

"Okay."

"Good girl," he said fondly, as they continued to look through the photo album, as the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room.

* * *

><p>"So what's she like mom?" Tina asked.<p>

"Well she looks like Maurice that's for sure," Priscilla said. "She has his eyes."

"Well that's not all Maurice has to answer for," her eldest son grumbled.

"Stop moaning Maury," Priscilla said ruffling her sons hair. "We've been over this one thousand times already. There was no way I could change your father's mind. When he knew we were having a boy, he told me that he wanted to call you Maurice."

"It has to be the most unattractive name ever," he sulked.

"Believe me when I tell you unattractive was not a word you'd use to describe Maurice Laville. He was a real looker, and always had the ladies after him."

"Unlike his namesake," Tina added, causing Maury to throw a wet dishcloth at her.

"So where are they now?" Maury asked, jumping up onto the work surface, and stealing a tomato as Priscilla chopped the vegetables for the salad she was preparing.

"In the back room."

"Doing what?" Tina questioned. "Dad always tells me off when I go in there," she said sulking.

"I don't know Tina. Talking I suppose. Just leave them for now. This is a pretty big deal for your dad."

"She does know what dad does for a living right?" Tina questioned further.

"I should think so," Priscilla said feeling slightly anxious.

"And she's okay with that? She'd better not start looking her nose down on us or I'll..."

"Well she's here isn't she?" Priscilla said rationally, opening the cupboards and taking out her best dinner set.

Tina was very much her father's daughter. Blunt, brash and to the point, yet fiercely loyal about those she cared about. She still had a lot to learn about life, despite what she thought.

"Mom, take it easy," Maury laughed, watching Priscilla polish the already pristine looking dishes. "It's not the Queen of England coming to dinner, just another dysfunctional member of the Hill family gene pool."

"Please Maury!" she wailed. "None of your smart mouth today, don't say anything to upset her. I really don't think my nerves could take it," she said brushing a few strands hair away that had fallen into her face with the back of her hand.

"Me? Why would I upset her?" Maury asked.

"I'm not saying you will darling. It's not often we have guests so just...just be careful."

"What about Uncle Carlos, Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Wayne, they come here," Tina said.

Priscilla, continued to polish the plates more vigorously, before staring at her two children.

"Let Andy steer the topic of conversation tonight. You both already know which topics are off limits. We need her to come back to us, your dad needs her to come back," she said her voice cracking.

"Well, so when is dad going to tell her?" Tina added.

"When the time is right! She hasn't even met you or Maury yet. One step at a time, Tina," Priscilla said, breathing heavily.

"Yeah well, I just think..."

"Don't Tina!" Priscilla interrupted. "You have no idea what a complicated situation this is. All of this happened before you were even born. You're dad was broken when he lost her and Maurice, and it's taken him this long to heal."

"But dad will tell her tonight right?"

"I don't know," Priscilla sighed. "Hopefully. Maybe."

"He has to tell her tonight," Tina said uneasily.

Maury looked at his little sister, before turning back to his mother, who seemed flustered once more.

"Chill out mom," he teased. "Tonight will go without a hitch."

"Yeah mom," Tina added, nodding eagerly.

Maury narrowed his eyes at Tina, who turned away quickly, helping Priscilla to polish the remaining dishes.

"S_he's gone." Anton's face was grey, almost ashen._

"_What do you means she's gone?"_

"_Gone, as in not there any more." He closed his eyes trying to control the emotions that were building up. "She was adopted three months ago, some childless couple in their early thirties."_

_"I'm sorry Anton," Priscilla said rubbing his back soothingly._

"_Fucking hell! Dammit," he cursed banging the steering wheel with his fist several times._

_Priscilla flinched, before looking around anxiously. Anton's anger had been growing steadily worse over the last few months. She didn't know what his mood would be like from one day to the next, he had become that unpredictable._

"_I promised Maurice I'd look out for the stupid kid if anything went wrong, now I don't know where the hell she is!"_

_Priscilla looked over her shoulder nervously, jumping at every little sound._

"_How do we know this family will look after her properly huh? She can't sleep unless you read her a story, sing a song or at least talk to her for a while. You can't ever rush the conversation either, and boy can that kid talk," he said, shaking his head and laughing remorsefully._

_He turned his gaze out of the car window, not keen to show his new wife the tears in his eyes. How was he going to find her? She could be anywhere, even in another country._

"_I should have come sooner, the kid should be with me," he lamented._

"_You couldn't baby, not with the police watching your every move. You told them you didn't know Maurice when they questioned you. Besides, they wouldn't have just handed her to over you."_

"_I wasn't planning on ringing their doorbell and asking politely," he said coldly._

"_I'm sure wherever Andy is she's happy. They'd make sure she was in a happy home," she said gently._

"Y_ou think?" He couldn't imagine her being happy with anyone else other than Maurice._

"_Yes, I do," she said. She hoped._

"_So what I do Priscilla? If Maurice was still here, he'd know what to do. He was always the planner, not me."_

"_You leave it Anton. Let Andy start a new life with this family."_

"_Her old life was perfectly fine. She had her dad, she had me and was well looked after. Now the kid has nobody, she's all alone. Maurice wouldn't want this for her."_

_She nodded, patting his hand reassuringly. _

"_I know baby, but we have a new life now to consider as well," she said placing his hand on her swollen stomach._

"_She should be with me Priscilla," Anton said sadly._

"_I know baby, I know. Let's go before someone calls the cops, we're not off the hook just yet."_

"Okay mom, I won't say anything stupid," Maury said wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Tina remained silent, contemplating her earlier actions.

"I know darling," she said taking a deep breath. "Will you both lay the table? Make it look pretty."

Both nodded, and left the room. Priscilla looked up to the sky, and sent a quick prayer.

"If you're watching this Maurice Laville, please let tonight go well. Don't let her reject Anton, it will kill him."

She took another deep breath and brought her serving dish into the dining room.

"Anton! Andy!' she sang, 'Dinner is ready!"

* * *

><p>The dining room was simply decorated, yet pretty. There was a floral centrepiece on the large dining table that could seat ten people. Priscilla's crockery and expensive silverware adorned the table, and sparkled under the lights. There were a selection of wines, fruit juices as well as both still and sparkling water.<p>

Anton sat at the head of the table. Andy sat next to him, feeling more than a little nervous. Maury and Tina were already seated opposite, and Tina couldn't help but stare at her. There was no denying the family resemblance, and glancing over at her brother, she knew he thought the same. Priscilla sat next to Andy, smiling at her reassuringly.

"Andy, this is Tina, my youngest child and only daughter," Anton said, smiling at his daughter affectionately.

Andy smiled, shyly. Tina simply stared.

"This is my eldest son Maurice."

"Hi nice to meet you, but please call me Maury, everybody does."

"You called him Maurice?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes. It seemed fitting."

The room was quiet, and Andy was a little stunned.

"I hope you're hungry Andy," Priscilla said breaking the silence. "I may have cooked too much, normally Christopher is here. He has a big appetite. Where he puts it all, I'll never know," she said smiling.

"Where is he?" Andy asked, glad for the distraction.

"Christopher? He's away for a few days visiting friends out of town. Maybe if you come around again you can meet him, and my other missing child Ryan who is sleeping over at a friends house tonight," she explained.

Anton looked at his wife and smiled, grateful for her support.

"So it's Tina, Ryan, Christopher and Maury," Andy recited.

"Yes," Priscilla said as she passed around the bread basket.

"Anyway, so dad can I still go to the Justin Bieber concert? The tickets are on sale tomorrow," Tina asked, attempting to catch him off his game.

"How much?"

"One hundred and twenty dollars, for seats near the stage."

"I am not paying one hundred and twenty dollars just to hear some pimple faced teenager sing!"

"Dad! You are not coming! Mom tell him he's not coming!" she cried aghast.

"There needs to be an adult there sweetie," she said.

"I am almost fifteen," she huffed. "That makes me practically an adult!"

When she saw they weren't buying into that argument, Tina relented.

"Megan's big sister said she'll come with us."

"How old is she?" Priscilla asked, looking at her husband.

"Nineteen."

"Well it's up to your dad."

"Over one hundred dollars for a ticket. It's a lot of money."

"It's the VIP package dad. There's a limited addition bag, t-shirt and a signed poster as well as the best seats available. This is Justin Bieber, we are talking about," she said, as if that should clear up any of his concerns.

Do you know how much pocket money I used to get when I was your age?" Anton asked.

"Two dollars!" Tina and Maury said in unison.

Andy smiled, and Tina's determination reminded her of when Tommy refused to let her see the Backstreet Boys in concert. Of course she swore her life was no longer worth living, and refused to talk to him for a week, but she survived.

"Did you know what I had to do for that money? Because pocket money didn't come for free. You kids don't know when you've got it so lucky," Anton said.

Tina, rolled her eyes.

"Dad, this is the twentieth century."

"I was born in the twentieth century," Anton retorted.

"Just," Priscilla laughed, winking at Andy.

"Fine. I'll clean your car for a week," she conceded.

"And polish," Maury added, causing Tina to glare at her big brother, who laughed in response.

"You've got to clean inside and out or it's not a proper job," Andy threw in, suddenly feeling relaxed enough to join in the banter.

"I like you kid," Anton said, laughing loudly.

"This is a conspiracy," Tina grumbled.

"Alright, alright, you can go to this Justin Bubble concert," Anton teased.

"It's Bieber dad. Bieber."

"Right you can go, but you will clean the car both inside and out, as well as polish for the next three weeks."

"Three weeks?"

"Take it or leave it," he said firmly.

"Fine. But let the record show, I am not happy."

"We'll bear that in mind," Priscilla smiled, before the table erupted into laughter.

Andy's phone started to ring, and when she saw the name on the display, she wondered if the universe was telling her that this gathering was a terrible mistake.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this," she said, pushing her chair away from the table and standing. "It's my dad," she said uncomfortably.

She did not miss the fact that Anton's face turned from relaxed, to very tense.

"Of course you must," Priscilla said, staring at her husband disapprovingly.

As Andy left the room and entered the corridor, she felt several pairs of eyes were staring at her. She wasn't going to start denying Tommy now or ever. But Anton's response annoyed her. It wasn't the first time he disregarded Tommy, and she didn't like it.

"Hi dad, I'm good, I'm good," she said and couldn't help but smile.

"What am I doing? Eating...No it isn't take out."

They talked for a short while, Andy laughed comfortably, not letting her surroundings effect the love and respect she had for her dad.

"I'm glad. So I finally can come and see you? I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, which came out louder than she would have liked in her excitement.

Tina deliberately cleared her throat loudly.

"Love you too dad," Andy said, and ended the call, sooner than she would have liked.

The change in atmosphere was apparent as Andy entered the room.

"So what does your dad do?" Tina asked.

"Well he's retired now, but he used to be a detective," she answered, as she reclaimed her seat.

"And what do you do?"

"Me?" Andy asked, looking towards Anton, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm a police officer."

"You've gotta be joking! Dad did you know this?" Maury questioned.

Anton nodded and sighed.

"I'm sorry but you need to go, you can't be here," Maury declared, throwing his napkin down on the table.

"This is mine and your mother's house the last time I looked Maury! Be quiet!" Anton shouted, banging his fist on the table.

"Mom?"

Priscilla shook her head.

"We do not speak to guests that way Maury, especially family," she added, siding with Anton.

"I'm sorry," Maurice said quietly.

"I'm going to go," Andy said, feeling uncomfortable.

"No kid, you stay."

"I really think I should..."

"Dammit Andy! Stay!" Anton said frustrated as things began to fall apart before his eyes. "Please," he said more softly.

Andy watched as Maury and Tina looked at each other, both shaking their heads disapprovingly, at their father's decision.

"So what do you do?" she asked Maury, blinking away her tears of hurt and confusion.

"He's an accountant," Tina answered.

"You're an accountant?" Andy looked at him, and laughed bitterly.

"What's so funny?" He seemed genuinely surprised by her outburst.

"Yes, I know your dad has a thing for accountants. How's Emily doing?" she asked.

"Who the hell is Emily?" Maury asked.

Anton whipped his head around to face her, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.

"The perimeter is clear sir," she said. "Does that ring a bell?"

"That was you with Swarek?" Anton said disbelievingly.

"Yes, it was me there that day. So I know why you hate Sam, and I know why he despises you. I took a few steps before I saw your face, but I didn't recognise you. Sure I knew you were Anton Hill, but I didn't even realise that Anton Hill was my Uncle Anton."

She waited for him to say something, and was surprised when Anton simply spooned some potatoes and lamb onto her plate in silence. He served himself and started to eat, glancing at his wife, who seemed to be communicating to him with her eyes.

Priscilla served the others, and finally herself, putting an extra spoonful of potatoes on Andy's plate. Andy looked up at Priscilla, and across the table to her cousins who looked away quickly. She had no idea what was happening.

"God what am I doing here, with you people!" she said, staring at her plate of food, and having no appetite.

"Your meal is getting cold," Anton said as calmly as he could.

Andy put a forkful of potato into her mouth, having difficulty in swallowing. It felt wrong being there, and her instincts told her to leave.

"I can't do this. This is not me. I'm better than this," she said, placing her fork down on her plate.

"You're a drug dealer's child, just like the rest of us. Get over yourself," Tina said snidely.

"I would like to go home please, Mr Hill. Could you call me a taxi," Andy said, not responding to Tina's comment.

"I'll drive you," Priscilla said calmly.

"She can't go," Tina said. "Christopher isn't here yet."

"I knew it," Maury hissed throwing down his cutlery too. "You told him, you told Chris about tonight."

"Well I thought he had the right to know."

"Oh Tina," Priscilla said, "you stupid, stupid girl. I told you to leave it alone."

Priscilla turned to face Andy and then her husband, not knowing what to do or say.

"What exactly did you tell him?" Anton asked Tina.

"The truth," she said shakily, suddenly aware that she may have overstepped the mark.

"What did you tell him?" Anton repeated again.

"I..."

"What the hell did you tell him?" Anton shouted. "You'd better start talking young lady. One, two, three..."

"I told him that Andy was coming for dinner, and that he had better hurry back home if he wanted to meet his big sister," she said quickly.

Andy opened her eyes wide in shock.

"Oh crap!," Maury muttered, placing his head in the palm of his hand.

"I just thought it would be nice for him to meet her," she said crying. "It didn't seem fair that we were here and he wasn't."

Tina turned back to her father, hoping he would understand, but she felt the sharp sting of his hand as he slapped her across the face.

"Get out of my sight. Or so help me God..." Anton said, as Tina ran from the room in tears.

Andy stood and ran out too, opening the door and running out into the street with no coat, shaking before becoming violently sick and vomiting. Priscilla grabbed her car keys, their coats and followed close behind, lost at how to salvage the situation.

"Come on," she said soothingly, as she saw Andy hunched over and clutching her stomach. "It's not as bad as it sounds," Priscilla said, as she opened the car door, throwing their coats on the back seats and escorted Andy to sit at the front. She ran back into the house to get a bottle of water, which she gave to Andy who took a few sips and rinsed out her mouth. Priscilla reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of gum, offering Andy a stick.

"Chew this sweetheart, it will make you feel better."

Andy took a piece and chewed slowly, allowing Priscilla to buckle her seatbelt in its holder. She turned on the cars engine, waiting for the car to heat up. Taking a piece of gum and putting it into her own mouth, Priscilla chewed wondering what to say next, before deciding to stay silent for now, as they had a long drive ahead of them.

"Is it true? I have a brother," Andy asked hoarsely.

"Yes. Christopher is your brother."

Andy nodded, and rested her head onto the passenger window and closed her eyes.

"Any more surprises I need to know about?" she asked.

"No sweetheart, I'm pretty sure that's it."

"Can we go now please?"

"Sure we can."

Priscilla pulled the car slowly out of the drive and down the road, heading in the direction of the city. She was both relieved and saddened as she saw Christopher's car pass them in the opposite direction, heading in the direction of the family home. He didn't notice her car, which was probably best under the circumstances.

They drove for quite some time before Priscilla spoke.

"Your uncle was planning on telling you about Christopher."

Andy remained silent, but Priscilla knew she was listening, and continued talking anyway.

"Anton held back to protect you. He didn't want to bring up everything all at once, but he was going to tell you."

She glanced over at her niece, watching the tears fall from her eyes, but she refused to open them.

"Andy, look at me," Priscilla urged, but she shook her head.

Priscilla pulled the car over to the side of the road, allowing the engine to keep running.

"Christopher is a wonderful person, and we raised him as if he were our own. He came to us when he was a small child, and he's been with us ever since. Tina thought she was doing the right thing tonight, but she's still a kid and doesn't understand the bigger picture. She doesn't know the history. I suppose I should take responsibility for that, as I always made Anton keep all that away from the children. Christopher was different. He needed to know."

Priscilla reached into the glove compartment, taking another piece of gum, before she continued.

"After Maurice died, and you were adopted, your uncle took it so bad. He changed right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do about it. He stopped caring, was angry most of the time and sometimes would sink into a depression that was so bad that it frightened me. Twice I went to stay with my mother when things became too much. Can you imagine what he was going through?"

Andy opened her eyes, but did not move.

"When Christopher, came into our lives, the husband I knew returned to me again. Christopher brought him back to life, and although he wasn't completely the same, we started to communicate again, and he started to love his family. Christopher helped to heal him from his loss of you."

Andy's cellphone rang, and recognising the number she answered, trying to control the wavering in her voice.

"Hey Sam," she said. "I'm on my way into the city," she continued.

"How much longer will I be?"

"Ten minutes," Priscilla whispered, as she started to drive once more.

"Around ten minutes. Yeah, I can meet you at the barn...by the truck. Am I okay? Yeah, totally fine."

She knew he would see straight through that.

They pulled outside the 15 division a short time later, and Andy grabbed the door handle, wanting desperately to escape.

Priscilla grabbed her arm.

"At least hear him out, that's all I ask. Christopher needs to speak to you, more than anybody. If anything talk to him."

Andy pushed open the door and began to run towards the truck.

"Sam!" she cried running straight into his arms.

He held her tight, confused.

Sam looked up after a minute and saw a lady staring at him with sad eyes. He looked down at Andy who had her face buried in his chest.

"She forgot this," Priscilla said handing Sam Andy's coat.

"Goodbye Andy," she said softly, feeling exposed at the police station, and quickly left before anybody recognised who she was.

Sam tightened his grip around Andy, and she held him tighter.

"Shall we go home?" he asked.

"That sound like a good plan," she said, but did not move.

"You know we have to talk about this, right?"

"I know, but you're probably going to be mad at me."

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad?"

"Ten," she said looking up at him.

Sam took a deep breath, and held Andy close.

"Did you cook?" he asked.

"Yes. Home made Lasagne."

"Well that's a start, so that should bring my anger down to at least a nine," he joked.

"There's a cheesecake too," she added.

"Okay, so that makes it an eight."

"Sam? Let's go home," Andy said. "The sooner we argue, the sooner we can make up right?"

"Now that sounds like a plan," he smiled, as they walked towards the car.

"Oh that's only part of it, Swarek," she said boldly. "If I make up with you in my own special way, I think we can get that score down to at least a four."

"A four? Now I'm intrigued. Lead the way McNally," Sam joked, as he opened the door to the truck.

* * *

><p>"She was here, and you just let her go?" Christopher was distraught.<p>

"I didn't have a choice. Andy wanted to leave. She was hardly made welcome," he added staring at his children.

Anton sighed deeply, and rubbed his palm across his forehead.

"I raised you all better than this, and I was embarrassed by your behaviour tonight."

"Well Maury upset her not me," Tina sulked.

"And what about you Tina? You upset me, and you upset Andy. You are grounded for two months with no pocket money and you will not be going to that concert. Are we clear?"

Tina nodded.

Christopher looked lost, and slumped down in a chair defeated.

"We'll sort this out son," he said.

"But that's just it, isn't it uncle Anton? I'm not your son, and it's stuff like this that reminds me."

"She's a cop bro," Maury added, "it's probably for the best that she's gone."

"I don't care what she does, she's my sister."

"You can have Tina, she's going for free," Maury said sarcastically, earning him a kick from his sister.

"He already has me, jerk," she said, smiling at Christopher softly.

Christopher rose, turned, and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Anton asked.

"To my room to think. I'm too big to sit under a kitchen table!" he snapped.

Maury and Tina looked at one another, puzzled by his remark. Anton understood clearly what Christopher was saying. He watched the boy he considered to be his son walk away dejectedly, and he felt completely responsible for the pain he was feeling.

_"Anton, he still won't eat!" Priscilla wailed._

_Anton buttoned up his shirt, wishing his wife would leave the room, or stop talking at the very least._

_"I've tried pasta, fruit, yoghurt, toast and even cereal. It's been two days, and the children keep asking who he is, and when he's going home."_

_"Well then tell them," Anton replied, before turning away._

_"I have."_

_"So then there's no problem," he said gruffly._

_Anton sat at the edge of the bed and began to polish his shoes._

_"I can't do this alone! You agreed to have him here..." Priscilla continued._

_"I didn't agree to anything!" Anton snapped, cutting her off._

_"Fine. We didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, but it doesn't help that you won't look at him or speak to him. He's a kid for Christ's sake!"_

_Anton slipped on his shoes, and attached a cuff link, holding his arm up silently for his wife to assist._

_"Listen," she said less harshly, taking the second cuff link off the dresser, and sitting next to her husband. "I know this is hard for you, but imagine how he is feeling. He's lost everything he's ever known."_

_"Don't you think I know how that feels?"_

_"But you still have us," Priscilla said softly, kissing him on the cheek._

_She gently dusted his shoulders and looked at her husband who sighed heavily. Anton had changed and wasn't the same man she had fallen in love with. He was broken, and she did not know how to fix him._

_"Priscilla, I can't do this, not again. I can't go through this, just to lose another one."_

_"It won't be like before, Bella isn't coming back for him, we both know that. But he won't talk at all, I don't know what to do. He needs you, I need you."_

_"Mom! Ryan has made Christopher cry," their eldest son yelled, from the living room._

_"Shit!" Priscilla muttered, hurrying downstairs, throwing a desperate look towards Anton, who reluctantly followed._

_"Ryan, what did you do?" Priscilla asked the toddler, as she crouched down to his level._

_Ryan stood sucking his thumb in response._

_"Maury? What happened?"_

_"Ryan hit him," Maury replied, as he played with his toy cars on the floor._

_Priscilla groaned and scanned the room looking for the little boy._

_"Where's Christopher, Maury?" she asked alarmed._

_Maury shook his head. Priscilla rose to her feet, frantically looking for Christopher._

_"Christopher! Christopher!" she cried as she tore through the house._

_She ran down the corridor and stopped suddenly when she saw Anton enter the kitchen, and immediately go down on all fours. He began to crawl, and Priscilla followed with a puzzled expression._

_She stood in the doorway, watching amused as Anton's butt was in view, and nothing else. His head was under the table and he was whispering. She came closer and saw Christopher sat crossed-legged and crying. Anton came and joined him, mimicking his position._

_"What are you doing under here?" he asked the little boy, who continued to cry, but did not answer._

_"Don't worry about Ryan, he didn't mean to hurt you. He just plays rough sometimes," Anton explained, nudging him gently._

_Christopher, stopped crying, but still remained silent._

_"So...I'm sorry I haven't seen you much, I've been busy, but how about we hang out today and get to know one another?" he asked clearing his throat._

_Anton tried to get comfortable, and silently cursed, as his limbs struggled in his unaccustomed position._

_"It's pretty cool under here, it was a great idea Christopher," he said faking enthusiasm._

_Priscilla crawled under the table too._

_"How are my two men doing?" she asked._

_"Great!" Anton said, glancing over at Christopher. " Do you think we could have some breakfast? Me and Christopher are starving."_

_"No problem," Priscilla said, sliding out from under the table._

_She went to the make some toast, glad to finally have her husband on board. She needed him, three small children under the age of five years, was already taking its toll on her. She had wanted a third child, who would now technically be their fourth, but had decided they should wait a while longer before trying again._

_"Your Aunty Priscilla makes a great breakfast," Anton said, trying to encourage him to speak. "You should try her eggs, very yummy," he added, as he patted his stomach._

_Priscilla, spread Jam onto several slices of toast, cutting them into quarters and poured two glasses of milk. She smiled listening to Anton talking, and if she had not known better, she would have thought he was talking to one of their own children. He had become very closed since losing Maurice and Andy, but when it was just them alone, he was almost himself._

_"So what shall we do today?" he asked Christopher._

_Anton couldn't help thinking about Andy then, and how she would have been ready with a list of things to do if he had asked her the same question. Except he couldn't. She was gone._

_He closed his eyes briefly, schooling his features when Priscilla appeared with their toast and milk. She gave both of them a reassuring smile and left the items in a tray on the floor between them. Taking a piece of toast, and a gulp of milk Anton continued talking._

_"How about a story then?" he asked._

_Christopher did not answer, but took a piece of toast, taking a small bite._

_"Have you heard the one about The Very Hungry Caterpillar? "_

_Christopher, took another bite of toast, and shook his head, before looking away shyly._

_"It's a great story," Anton smiled, "you'll love it."_

_Anton continued to tell Christopher the story, word for word with no book in sight. It was etched in his memory..._

_'On Monday he ate through one apple, but he was still hungry...'_

_'On Tuesday he ate through two pears, but he was still hungry...'_

_Anton watched, as the little boy took another slice of toast, finishing it in two mouthfuls before going back for more._

_'On Wednesday he ate through three plums, but he was still hungry...'_

_'On Thursday he ate through four strawberries, but he was still hungry...'_

_"What is his name?" _

_"What?" Anton asked surprised, at hearing his voice. _

_"The Caterpillar. What was his name?"_

_Anton looked at him in utter disbelief, unsure whether to laugh or to cry. This really was Maurice's child, and he suspected he may have his hands full there. He hoped so._

_"Percy," he replied, deciding laughing was the only option. "His name is Percy."_

_"Percy the Caterpillar," Christopher repeated. "I like that name."_

_"Me too," Anton replied smiling, and took another piece of toast._

* * *

><p>"We've spoken about this many times Chris," Anton said softly, watching him as he lay on his bed.<p>

"What's she like Uncle Anton?" Christopher asked, still staring at the ceiling.

"Like you."

Christopher sighed.

"You've gotta remember, we've all been together for a while, we know what each other needs. This is new to Andy, she was raised differently. She was an only child."

Christopher nodded, unable to stay angry with his uncle for too long.

"So it was a disaster tonight?" he questioned.

"Yep. But she's seen us now, just let her take that in for the moment."

"And she's really a cop?"

"Yeah," Anton smiled.

"And your not worried?"

"I'm too old to be worried. The only thing I worry about is my family."

"So she knows what you do?"

"We haven't spoken about it directly...but she knows."

"What if she tells them about us?"

"What is there to tell? She'd have to admit she was related to me, and if she does that she can kiss any career progression goodbye. Besides I haven't told her anything that would compromise that."

"You really care about her don't you? I can hear it in your voice."

"I care about you both. You're my only niece and nephew. Get some rest, you've had a long drive."

Anton went to leave the room.

"Uncle Anton?"

"Yeah."

"I've never told you this before, but I'm glad I came to live with you and Aunty Priscilla."

"I'm glad you came too. I'm doing this for you Chris, I should have done it years ago, but I suppose the timing wasn't right. Maurice would have wanted you guys to be together, that's the least I can try to do."

"You can't keep blaming yourself about dad, like I can't keeping blaming myself about mom leaving me the way she did," Christopher said.

"It's different Chris," Anton said.

"How?"

"It just is."

"So what do we do now?" Christopher asked.

"We wait."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure. Let's wait till your Aunty gets back and see what she has to say."

Christopher nodded.

"We'll talk more in the morning," Anton sighed, as he went to the back room to think and wait for his wife to return.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-If you ever get the chance to read the 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' to a small child, or even to yourself please do! It's an old book which I read when I was very young. I just think it's a lovely, simple story that can be interpreted on many levels. <strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**AN-Again many thanks for the reviews. It has been a hectic two weeks with work and life, but have been slowly working away on this chapter whenever I've had the chance. It's not as long as my previous chapter, but I hope you like it as much I enjoyed writing it...Enjoy!**

**AN 2- Special thanks to DCJ. Also to the reviewers who I could not respond to personally: Malisa-Chica, LeeW, jh126 & Dd25.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Matters of the Heart.<strong>

Sam took several deep ragged breaths, trying to slow down his rapidly beating heart, which began to speed up as Andy raked her nails across his bare chest. He pulled her body closer, placing one hand on the small of her back and the other grabbing a fistful of her damp hair as he kissed her roughly, moaning into her mouth.

"Andy," he growled, as her hands began their journey over his biceps, down his sides, and stilling at his hips.

"That...takes us down to number five," she said breathlessly, pulling her hair from her sweat soaked body, and loosely tying it into a bun.

"I like your hair down," he said huskily.

"I know you do, but I'm hot," she explained, as a bead of sweat trickled down her neck.

Andy pushed him back forcefully against the bed, and the mattress dipped slightly from their combined body weight as they both fell onto it. Sam couldn't help but stare in awe, as Andy straddled him, planting a thigh firmly on either side of his hips. As Sam raked his eyes over her glistening body, having to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He still found it hard to believe that they were really together, and that she was finally his. Andy leaned forwards to kiss him on the mouth. Sam pulled her impossibly closer, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his own. He wished they could be like this forever, just the two of them without any complications.

"Andy," he whispered breathlessly.

"Hmm," she replied, in between kisses.

"We still need to talk."

"Not until we get down to number four. We can talk later, don't ruin it now Sam," she pleaded.

Andy needed this more than ever. She wanted to forget about the last few hours, and simply feel. There would be plenty of time to talk afterwards.

She turned her attention to Sam's neck, nipping and sucking, destroying any argument he had constructed in his mind.

"Have you heard of an Icebreaker?" she asked suddenly.

Sam was only able to shake his head, having lost the ability to talk somewhere between Andy pulling his ear between her teeth, and a teasing it with her tongue.

"An Icebreaker should take us to four," she clarified. "Arms up," Andy instructed, causing Sam to narrow his eyes slightly but obediently comply, turned on by the authoritative tone in her voice.

Picking up her discarded bra, she tied Sam's wrists to the headboard and smiled mischievously.

"McNally," Sam warned, his voice becoming low.

"Swarek," she responded as she raised and eyebrow.

"It's 1am, and we will so regret this in the morning."

"It is the morning," Andy said sarcastically, as she bucked her hips into his, causing him to hiss. Her hair fell loose once more, causing her brunette locks to fall over her face and eyes. Andy brushed it away so she could look at him closely.

"Don't worry Sam...It won't hurt. Much," Andy said smiling, as she tested the security of her knot, by pulling lightly on the bra.

Sliding off him, Andy walked out of the room, swaying her hips seductively and returning minutes later with a jug full of ice cubes.

"McNally what are you up to?" Sam laughed nervously.

"Getting some ice," she replied, as she rattled the jug, before putting it on the bedside table.

"And what are you going to do with it?''

"It's a surprise," Andy said mysteriously, as she placed an ice cube into her mouth, and straddled him once more.

* * *

><p>Priscilla walked through the house, making a beeline for where she knew her husband would be. She opened the door to the back room, and sure enough, Anton sat on the settee with a bottle of beer in his hands in deep thought. Priscilla sat next to him, and slipping off her shoes, placed both feet on the coffee table in front of them. She grabbed the bottle from Anton's hand and drank thirstily, waiting for him to talk.<p>

"Is she okay?" he asked after a while.

"Not exactly," Priscilla replied, bringing the bottle back to her lips.

"I've grounded Tina for two months without pocket money and have told her she cannot go to that concert."

Priscilla nodded, but did not comment.

"As for Maury, all I could do was express my disappointment. I can't believe the kids behaved like that tonight,"Anton sighed, as he shook his head in dismay.

"Well you hardly set a good example yourself did you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're no fool, Anton. Figure it out."

"So what? Somehow tonight was my fault?"

"I can't believe the way you behaved when her father called. Don't think Andy missed that look you gave her when she answered his phone call. How could you make her feel bad for speaking to her own father?" she said shaking her head.

"Maurice _is_ her father, not this whatever his name is," Anton said disdainfully.

"There...that is exactly what I am talking about! You can't do that Anton, it's not right."

He took the bottle of beer back from his wife and drank without responding.

"You listen to me, Anton Hill," she said turning to face him. "If, and I mean it's a big if after tonight's fiasco. If you get a chance to speak to Andy again you apologise for what you did because you were out of line. You should be thanking this man for raising her, and Andy clearly loves him, you could hear it by the way she spoke on the phone. Yes Maurice is her dad and nothing can change that, but so is this man too."

"Fine."

"Listen I would be failing you as a wife and friend if I did not point this out to you. I have to say it as I see it. For better or worse right?"

"It's just things were going so well, and she just dismissed us to answer the phone..."

"To her father!"

They both remained quiet for a while, clearly annoyed at one another.

"Let me put it to you this way," Priscilla said more calmly. "It's like someone telling Chris not to speak to us, because we aren't his biological parents, even though we are all he has known since the age of four. This man is all Andy's known for a very long time. He's obviously done a good job, so show him some respect."

"I didn't mean it like that," Anton relented.

"I know you didn't, but that's how it looked," she said patting his knee. "Now can I have a beer please?" she asked, lightening the mood. "What an evening! The roads are still icy, and the traffic was crazy coming out of town," she continued, bending her knees and curling both legs under her.

Priscilla picked up the remote control, pointing it at the music system and pressed the play button. As the voice of Ella Fitzgerald began to sing, she gladly accepted the cold bottle from Anton and relaxed. Anton placed an arm around her shoulder as she lay her head on his chest. Priscilla loved feeling him close, and even after twenty five years of marriage those feelings had never changed despite their ups and downs.

"I dropped her at the police station," Priscilla said after some time.

"Yeah, which one?" he asked, lazily rubbing his thumb across her jaw.

"15 Division and I saw the boyfriend. Sam right? It was obvious they care a lot for one another."

"That sanctimonious ass," Anton mocked. "God only knows what she sees in him."

"Probably the same thing I saw in you," Priscilla laughed. "I don't know, he's handsome in an unconventional way, and he does have lovely eyes,'' Priscilla commented.

"Handsome! How much beer have you had to drink?" Anton asked sarcastically.

"Not enough," Priscilla teased back, causing Anton to laugh out loud.

* * *

><p>They lay beside one another in a sweaty heap for a while, listening to the familiar sounds of a new day.<p>

"So that was an Icebreaker?" Sam chuckled.

"Uh huh," Andy laughed breathlessly.

"Well that's a first for me," he admitted.

"Me too. I read about it in Cosmopolitan two years ago, but have never had the chance to try it out."

"Well that has definitely brought my mood down to a four...no make that a three," Sam corrected.

He propped himself up on his elbow and turned to face Andy, who rolled on to her side and smiled at him.

"A three? I've surpassed all my expectations," she boasted, closing her eyes as they gently rubbed noses and kissed.

Alright, so this is as relaxed as I'll ever be, so spit it out," he said.

Andy flopped back down beside Sam and stared at the ceiling.

"That lady you saw earlier was my aunt, Anton's wife. She's actually seems like a nice person."

"I heard a rumour there was a Mrs Hill, but I never saw any proof. Hill doesn't wear a wedding band."

"He wears it on a chain around his neck," she said casually.

"Okay," Sam replied, slightly perturbed that Andy knew the intricacies of Hill's life.

"Anyway... so she gave me a ride," Andy explained.

"From where? When I rang you said you were coming back to the city. Hill's restaurant is in the city, and earlier you told me you were going to the restaurant. So does that mean you went somewhere else?"

"Yes Sam, it means that I was not at the restaurant, I was out of the city," Andy said hurriedly, trying to get to the point sooner rather than later. "I went to their house for dinner and to talk some more."

"So whom did you tell where you were going?" he asked.

Andy hated when Sam did that. Ask questions that he had clearly already worked out the answers to. She decided not to give a smart answer back, and add fuel to the fire.

"Nobody. I told nobody," she replied.

Andy let out a breath, and waited for the fireworks.

Sam was exhausted, and Andy could testify to the fact, seeing as she was the cause. However, he was definitely still on high alert. Andy felt his body shift and could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head. She knew he had something to say, and was waiting for his next move. She already had an idea of what that might be. Time and time again, when she was a rookie, Sam spoke about the importance of personal safety, and being a female at that. Andy knew what had happened to Sarah, he had opened up to her one night, giving her a glimpse of the real Sam that lay under his tough exterior. Andy did know better, but tonight she was caught up in the moment and disregarded everything she had been taught. So rather than avoid the inevitable she began to speak, hoping he was too worn out to give her the full impact of his wrath.

"Their home was in Whitby...I think. We definitely took the highway 401. It was hard to tell, there was so much traffic and I wasn't really concentrating."

_'Rule number one, McNally: A good police officer must always be aware of their surroundings, especially when it is new or unfamiliar. Landmarks, signs...things that may turn out to be important later on.'_

"Yeah. So what was the name of the street?" Sam asked.

"I don't know."

"The house number?"

"I don't remember that either."

"So you did know it, but now you've forgotten?"

"No," Andy sighed, "I did not know it to begin with."

_'Rule number two: Always radio in to let someone know where you are. If you don't know where you are, go back to rule number one.'_

"But you had your gun, right?"

_'Rule number three: Always wait for back up. If not possible, make sure you are armed. Never knowingly enter a building or situation with no means of defending yourself. If there are no means of defence, go back to rule two.'_

"You know I didn't have my gun Sam, my gun is at the station."

"So, let me be clear and correct me if I'm wrong," he said, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You went to Hill's house, which could have been in Whitby but you're not sure. You don't know the street name, or the house number. You didn't have your gun, no one knew where you were, you had no back up and all you can say for certain is that you drove down the 401?"

"Yep, that's pretty much it."

"I'm going to take a shower," was all he said.

Andy watched Sam climb out of the bed and enter the en suite. She briefly toyed with the idea of joining him, but quashed the idea when he slammed the door so hard, that the photo on the adjoining wall fell on to the floor with a loud thwack.

Andy wrapped the bed sheets around herself and made her way to the bathroom. She stopped outside the door, before turning the handle and entering.

"Sam?" she called out apprehensively.

He was perched on the edge of the toilet, having pulled the seat down. Andy knelt down in front of him, and took his hand.

"Please don't be angry with me Sam," she whispered.

"I'm not angry with you."

His expression turned solemn for a split second like he was going to scorn her some more but then he said the unthinkable.

"I can't do this any more, Andy."

"What can't you do?" she asked, not fully grasping what had been said.

"This," he said gesturing between the two of them. "I thought I could but I can't."

Andy looked at him shocked. Her eyes were full of tears.

"You don't want to be with me?" she asked.

"I love you Andy, you know I do but this is too much. You need to decide, it's either me or Hill. You can't have both."

Andy shook her head repeatedly in disbelief.

"You need to stop this crusade, Andy, because I can't stand by and watch you do this. I'm not even going to talk about what you did tonight because you know how stupid it was. What were you thinking? You couldn't tell me anything useful about where you had been tonight Andy, absolutely nothing!"

"Look I know...you're right, I let my guard down and it won't happen again," she said, kissing the back of his hand. "Don't do this to me, to us... I need you."

Sam took his thumb and wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eye.

"I've tried; God knows I've tried to be a good boyfriend and a good partner..."

"You are, you are," she whispered.

"So, why do you choose Hill over me every time?"

"I'm not; I just wanted to know more."

"You've spoken to him a few times, surely that is enough. What more is it you need to know?"

"Nothing, I suppose. It's just tonight I found out something and I..."

"No Andy, I don't want to know," he said letting go of her hand.

"But Sam..."

"Enough Andy! I'm asking you to pick me, regular guy Sam. If you pick Hill, I won't stand in your way, but I won't hang around and watch either."

"I don't understand..."

"Boyd mentioned he is setting up a task force and needs people to go deep undercover. I'll let him know that I'm available do it."

Andy allowed her tears to fall, when the realisation of what he was saying had sunk in.

"So you're just going to walk away? You promised me you'd never hurt me."

"I also promised that I would protect you, but how can I do that when you keep deliberately putting yourself in danger?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I don't want you be sorry, I want you to stop this. And before you start saying he won't hurt you I don't want to hear it," he said, turning his palm towards her.

"But I really don't think he will. He's had plenty of opportunities."

"Fine, let's say you're right, that he won't hurt you, but he'll definitely hurt me. I saw him at his restaurant earlier today, and he told me that if he saw me there again he would kill me. Your precious uncle wants to kill me."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. He was trying to get a reaction from you."

"So what do you suggest Andy that I go back and test if your theory true? You need to make a decision."

Wiping her eyes, Andy stood up and took a step back.

"Fine Sam, you win and I choose you. I won't see him again if that's what you want."

Andy looked at him sadly and exited the bathroom. Sam watched through the open door, as she dropped the bed sheet, picked up her clothes from the floor and left the room, without saying another word. Sam thought he would feel happy, but all he felt was empty and a tinge of regret.

* * *

><p>"You're up early," Priscilla said as she entered the kitchen, pulling her robe tighter around her body.<p>

"I couldn't sleep," Anton said as he sat at the kitchen table.

He took a sip of his tea and sighed.

"Still thinking about yesterday?" she asked as she dropped a tea bag into a cup.

Anton nodded. "I've thought about nothing else."

"Well, I've been thinking about that too," she said as she poured hot water into the cup and began to stir.

"Yeah? Any ideas?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but the response was interrupted by Christopher, who padded in still half asleep.

"Morning Aunty P," he said leaning over and hugging her tight.

Christopher was tall, and Priscilla was short. They looked like a comedy act as his six feet five frame towered over her five foot two body, encased in a pink fluffy robe and matching slippers. He picked her up, causing her feet to leave the ground, and she laughed.

"Morning sweetheart. Shall I make you some breakfast, and then we can all talk?"

"That would be good."

"Here take my cup of tea. Sit with your uncle, it won't take long."

Christopher pulled a chair from under the table and sat down.

"You okay Chris?" Anton probed.

"I'll live," he smiled taking a drink from his cup.

"That's my boy," Anton said, ruffling his hair affectionately.

* * *

><p>A few hours later Sam opened the door to the guest bedroom silently; it was dark inside the room with all the curtains closed. He didn't turn on the lights, and waited for his eyes to adjust instead. Quietly he moved over to the bed and sat down next to a sleeping Andy. She was curled up on her side with one hand under her pillow and the other holding a framed photo against her chest. Her nose was red and eyes looked puffy, so he knew she had cried herself to sleep. Sam gave a small sigh, as he took the photo and placed it back on the bedside table. He never wanted to upset Andy, but he knew he had. She had chosen to sleep alone and away from him, which hurt. Sam just wanted to pick her up and carry her back to their bed, where he could kiss and hold her tight. Brushing the hair away from her face with his hand, Sam decided to leave things till she woke up. He'd make them a late breakfast, and hopefully they could clear the air. He was unable to sleep by himself since she walked away earlier, and was left with no alternative. Pulling back the bed sheets he climbed in to the bed, taking care not to touch or startle her. He was content to feel her near and watch her sleep. Once his anxiety had levelled off, he too fell into a deep stupor.<p>

Andy opened her eyes suddenly, acutely aware of his presence. Once upon a time that presence was comforting, reassuring and always welcomed. Normally she would roll over and face him, maybe kiss him or run a hand across his face. She loved those moments where his face was relaxed and stress free, and often he would involuntarily smile from her touch, never quite waking fully. Now she just felt tense, on edge and suffocated by his close proximity and demands. She blinked several times, and without glancing back, slipped out of the bed. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a jumper, she did what she did best. Run. She could catch the early bus, and be out of the city and away from it all.

* * *

><p>"Dad!" Andy cried, dropping her bag to the floor and running into his arms.<p>

They both hugged for an infinite amount of time, as Tommy cried tears of joy.

"I really missed you dad, so much," she whispered, letting out a shaky breath.

"Me too kiddo, it's been too long. Let me look at you," he said, taking a step back to look at her. "Still my beautiful girl," he said with pride.

Andy hugged him again. She felt rejuvenated already, despite her long journey.

"You look great dad, you really do. So it's working right?"

"So far, so good and I feel better for seeing you," he said smiling.

Andy smiled back, but the sparkle didn't quite reach her eyes.

"What's wrong Kiddo?" Tommy asked with concern.

"Nothing."

"Listen I may be a recovering alcoholic but I'm still your dad, and I know when my little girl is upset," he said.

"I'm not a little girl dad," she whined.

"You'll always be my little girl," he said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"I've just got a few things on my mind dad."

"Is it the money? Because I can leave here if it's too much," he said concerned.

"No, we're good for another month."

Tommy sighed with relief; he wasn't ready to leave there just yet.

"So where's this person you want me to meet?" she asked. "Is it a woman?"

"You can meet her another time," Tommy said looking at her closely.

"But you said in your postcard..."

"Like I said you can meet her another time. Let's go for a walk, the gardens here are lovely. Good for clearing your head," Tommy stressed, as he held her hand.

"Okay dad. Sounds like a plan."

She let go of his grip, as he put on his coat and hat, which made Andy smile.

"I thought you didn't do hats dad?" she teased.

"There are a lot of things I wouldn't have done three months ago," he said. ''Besides, most of our body heat is lost from our heads and when a person's cold they crave more. Food, cigarettes...alcohol. Bet you didn't know that kiddo?''

"No I didn't," Andy laughed, as they linked arms. "Let's go, and you can tell me all these wonderful new things you've learnt, Professor McNally."

They walked for a while in silence before stopping at a bench to take a seat.

"Doesn't seem as cold today does it?" Tommy remarked.

Andy shook her head in agreement, as she moved closer to him.

"Do you wanna tell me what's really going on?" he asked.

"I'm just missing you dad, and not having you around is giving me too much time to think. It's no big deal really."

Tommy knew she wasn't being totally honest, and could always read her like a book.

"How's Sam?" he asked, casually.

"Fine."

Tommy felt her body tense for a fraction of a second before relaxing once more when she spoke.

"You're still staying with him then?''

"Yes."

"And how's that working out? No fights?"

"Just the usual house mate problems."

"Okay... That's good to hear."

They sat staring ahead for a while, watching a flock of birds, peck at the hard ground in search of food.

"So are you ready to tell me what happened, or do I need to ring Sam?" Tommy asked calmly.

"What? No dad. Nothing happened," she stumbled.

"Why is there a scar on your forehead? Did he do this to you?"

_Damn! She forgot about that._

"Dad!"

"Look me in the eye Kiddo, and tell me he didn't hurt you," Tommy said as he held her firmly by the chin.

"Dad, I swear Sam did not hurt me. He's not that kind of guy."

Tommy stared at his daughter for several seconds, before feeling satisfied that she was telling the truth.

"So what happened?"

"I was just careless. My mind was pre-occupied and I wasn't concentrating," she said honestly, alluding from the full story.

"I like Sam, he's stable, but he needs to keep a better eye on you if he wants my approval to be the man in your life.''

Andy blushed, slightly embarrassed that Tommy had come to that conclusion all by himself.

"It's a big responsibility looking after my baby girl, and it's something that needs to be taken seriously. I made that promise to myself the first time I laid eyes on you."

"Tell me about the first time you saw me?" she asked with wide eyes.

"I must have told you that story a thousand times," he said smiling.

"I know, it's just been a while. Maybe you have something new to add."

"What is there to say kiddo? I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and within a matter of weeks I knew I couldn't let you go."

Andy smiled; her heart was bursting with those few simple sentences.

"I managed to pull a few strings, and because of my job, we got the adoption hurried through within a week, not like it is these days."

"And nobody contested it?"

"Like your birth mother? She was in no fit state to look after you. She didn't want to know and signed away her parental rights. Her loss was my gain. You brought so much joy into my life Andy, and I'm proud to say that I am your father."

Andy smiled at him, as he kissed her on her forehead.

"Don't dwell on the past, look where it got me," Tommy whispered as Andy let her head drop to his shoulder. She felt Tommy shift so his arm was wrapped around her and his chin rested on top of her head.

"I love you kiddo, and I thank God everyday that you are still here with me. Don't ever forget that."

"I love you too dad."

Andy closed her eyes, for the moment only concentrating on the subtle rising and falling of his chest, allowing it to sooth her and wash away her worries. She'd been so worked for weeks, that she didn't actually realise how much until she felt herself relax in his presence, and how much she had missed her dad. Tommy McNally. No shades of grey here she thought, just pure and simple love. They still both needed each other, and probably always would.

It was at that precise moment Andy was sure of one thing. If it was a choice between her dad and Anton Hill, without a shadow of a doubt, Tommy would win every time.

* * *

><p>Sam awoke to an empty bed and sat up. He saw 10am flash on the clock as he stretched and made his way into the bathroom.<p>

"Andy," he called as went into the second bathroom, noting it was empty.

Pulling on pair of sweatpants he made his way down stairs to be greeted by silence when he called her name for a second time. He repressed his urge to panic and busied himself in making breakfast. Fruit, pancakes, bacon, eggs and freshly squeezed orange juice. All her favourite things. It was a celebratory meal, although right now he felt deflated and if he had very little to celebrate.

His finger hovered over the call button on his cell phone, but he decided to wait it out. She'd probably gone for a run or to buy a newspaper. Or...he shook his head, banishing any negative thoughts. Pushing his phone out of view, Sam pulled a tray of eggs from out of the fridge and began to cook.

* * *

><p>Priscilla was cutting several slices of toast in quarters for her nephew. It was a silly habit she had formed over the years and Christopher never objected. She glanced back at Anton and Christopher who had since been joined by her youngest son Ryan who had returned from his night away. As they laughed and fooled around she caught Anton's eye and he winked at her, and she winked back. He was certainly different in the last few days, and seemed emotionally lighter. She plated the last of the eggs and bacon and brought them to the table. As if on cue Maury and Tina appeared, albeit a little sheepishly. Tina gave her dad a kiss on the cheek.<p>

"You're still grounded," he grumbled.

"I know," Tina said as she hugged him. "I deserved it."

She gave her mom a quick kiss too and took a seat around the table next to Anton.

"We good Chris?" Maury asked.

Chris nodded.

Priscilla continued to place a jug of orange juice and a pot of coffee on the table, happy that her family were not at loggerheads.

"Are all my babies okay? Get it off your chest now before we start eating breakfast," she chirped.

"Everybody's great," Ryan said sarcastically, before swiping a piece of bacon. "Although, yesterday sounded like a complete mess,'' he continued. "I'm glad I wasn't there."

"Yes, it could have been better," Priscilla responded, "but we've had worse situations. As long as we stick together and remember that we are a family through thick or thin, we can get through anything. Now eat," she said, signalling the end of her sermon.

She sat back and drank her tea, relieved to see that things had not changed; as she watched her 'babies' squabble and tease one another.

"About Andy..." she said, temporarily silencing the room, "there's only one thing we can do."

Christopher looked at her with baited breath.

"I'm sorry sweetheart that you never got to meet her last night, it was never the plan to hurt you."

Christopher smiled sadly.

"But for now I really believe we need to back off and leave her alone."

She turned to Anton who was in deep concentration.

"What do you think Anton?" she asked.

He sighed and nodded in agreement.

"Christopher?" she asked.

He nodded too, and took a large breath to compose himself.

"I know, I get it. She's not ready, but it doesn't mean she won't be one day right?" he asked hopefully.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Priscilla asked.

"No," he said stifling a whimper.

"She'll be ready one day, Chris, I promise. It may take one day, one week, one month or even a year. Just be patient."

Priscilla stood, and gently squeezed his shoulder before making her way towards her husband.

"How you doing?" she whispered as she sat on Anton's lap.

He wrapped a hand around her waist and stared at his family.

"We didn't do too bad did we?" Priscilla continued, nodding towards the children.

"We did pretty good," Anton nodded.

"Maybe one day Andy will be here, with the others."

"Maybe," Anton responded.

She bent her head down and kissed him on the lips.

"Gross! That's disgusting," Tina said loudly, scrunching her face.

"How do you think you were conceived?" Priscilla quipped.

"Thanks, now you've officially put me off my breakfast," Tina groaned, as she threw her fork down in disgust.

Priscilla, shook her head and kissed her husband once more, disregarding the gagging sounds and cat calls from her family.

"They'll meet one day," she whispered so only he could hear.

"I hope so," he whispered back.

Priscilla began to rise, but Anton pulled her back down, silently urging her to stay.

"I see you've got your appetite back," Anton said looking at his daughter pointedly.

"Barely. It was touch and go there for a moment," she said in between mouthfuls of food.

Anton rolled his eyes, at her dramatic display of discontentment, as they all burst into fits of laughter.

* * *

><p>It was late evening by the time Andy arrived home. She entered as quietly as she could, pulling off her boots and shrugging off her coat. She made her way to Sam's room and stood in the doorway staring. Sam kept his eyes closed, finally able to breathe once more as he felt the knot that had been in his stomach all day begin to slowly uncoil itself. He was a nightmare at work today, and everyone gave him a wide berth, except for Noelle who told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't give a damn that he was in a bad mood, when she volunteered to be his partner.<p>

Sam watched Andy in the dark, as she removed her clothes and opened a drawer. The knot in his stomach completely relaxed when he saw her slip his Crush t-shirt over her head.

"I know you're awake," she whispered, as she climbed into the bed next to him.

Sam didn't answer. Andy shuffled closer draping an arm across his stomach.

"I would have called but my battery was dead, and I lost track on time."

"Where were you?" Sam finally said.

"I needed to see my dad, it's been far too long."

"I could have driven you. I would have taken a day off, if you asked."

"I know, but I really needed some dad-daughter time, and the bus rides gave me a chance to think."

She lay her head on his chest, and Sam gently ran a hand up and down her arm, unable to refrain from not touching her.

"So how is Tommy?"

"Good. Fantastic actually. We spent hours just walking around the grounds and talking. At one point one of the therapists brought us out some sandwiches and a Thermos of Coffee as we never came back in for lunch or dinner."

Sam chuckled, knowing how talkative they could be.

"Dad knows about us," she said.

Sam smiled to no one in particular at her use of the word 'us.'

"So seeing as it is officially your last day off tomorrow, before you go back to work I figured we should do something together," Sam suggested.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A drive to St Catherine's. Visit my sister, and meet the rest of my family. Do you think you could manage that?"

"I'd love to meet your family."

Sam finally looked at her and kissed her, "They'd love to meet you too," he said.

"So you're sleeping here tonight?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"There's no other place I'd rather be," Andy replied, causing Sam's heart to soar as he held her tighter.

* * *

><p>Boyd stood in an alleyway, watching and waiting. The blue Sedan drove by slowly, parking a short distance away. He walked quickly, keeping his head down low and slipped into the passenger seat.<p>

"Donny, it's been a while," the younger man said cheerily.

"Not long enough," Boyd bit back.

"Hey, is that the way to treat an old friend?"

"Sorry Brad, I'm on a deadline. How's the wife?"

"She's good man. There's another baby on the way, so this little request of yours has come in handy. Did you bring the cash?"

"Yes. But tell me why it is costing me $500 more than usual? I thought we had an arrangement."

"It's a recession, but I suppose that doesn't effect my crime busting cousins."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious man. Private detectives, have to work to get paid. Unlike yours truly who get paid however little work they do."

"Oh you're a detective now?" Boyd smirked.

"I've always been the detective in this partnership, and you get all the glory."

"Whatever. What have you got?"

"Money first," he said holding out his hand.

"I should be offended by that remark, but thank the TPD for the money instead."

Boyd handed him a wad of money and laughed.

"So?"

"Well, I don't know Donny..."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well I watched this Hill guy like you said. Man is he one boring guy. He arrives at the restaurant 9am sharp, and leaves 5pm sharp. Same old routine day in and day out."

"That's it? That's all you've got?"

"I haven't finished yet, don't rush me. So anyway, a few days ago I was going to give up, when there started to be a little bit of activity."

"What do you mean?" Boyd said impatiently.

"There's a woman..."

"A woman?"

"A pretty hot woman who seemed to appear from nowhere. Well if I'm right he picked her up in a grocery store about twenty minutes from here, and five minutes from his restaurant."

"So he's got a hot trick."

"No, there's more to it than that. They sat in a coffee shop for a few hours talking."

"He was making a move on her. Big deal, Anton Hill has a healthy libido."

"Are you going to keep interrupting me?" Brad snapped.

Boyd gestured with his hands, for Brad to continue.

"No that's not it. I'm pretty good at reading body language, and it wasn't sexual."

"Okay."

"So they were in this coffee shop for a few hours and then they left and went to his restaurant for another few hours. She left alone a little after 9pm."

"So cut to the chase. What are thinking?" Boyd asked.

"Well he's changed his schedule which is a little strange right? So I figure I'll hang around a bit longer. The next day this guy shows up as mad as hell, practically parks his truck on the side walk and marches in. He's in there for about ten minutes and their arguing, but the whole time this Hill guy is cool, but the other guy is getting red in the face, waving his arms around the whole nine yards."

"Did he look familiar?"

"Not reallly, average looking, dark hair. So I decided to follow him you know see where he was going."

"And?"

"And he went into the police station at 15."

Boyd's eyebrows were in his hairline.

"That isn't the best part. So I'm sitting there wondering what the hell that is about, when I see the lady from the supermarket, the one he was talking to the day before going into the same police station. She comes out about an hour later, but doesn't return. So I go back to his restaurant a few hours later, and it's the same like the day before."

"Same how?"

"The way Hill and this woman are talking. It's nice and he's smiling at her like he's happy to see her, and she's smiling back. Anyway, after a while they both leave together and they get into his car and drive off."

"Where the hell did they go?"

"I don't know! You told me to watch the restaurant only, you got lucky I followed the angry dude and Hill those days I mentioned. If you want me to follow further afield then it will cost more.''

''But you got pictures right?''

"Of course," Brad said, pulling out a large Manila envelope from under his seat.

"So what do I think? I think you may have dirty cops leaking information to Hill. There's no other explanation," he said.

"Gimme that," Boyd said, snatching the envelope and tearing it open.

He pulled out the photos staring at them closely, processing what he was seeing.

"Son of a Bitch..." he muttered.

"You recognise them?'' he asked when he saw Boyd's face turn hard.

"Yeah," he spat. "I recognise them."

"Dirty cops?"

"I don't know," Boyd said, still staring at the photos in his hands, "but you'd better believe I'm going to find out."


	18. Chapter 18

**AN- Thanks for the reviews and alerts. I hope you like the next installment. As always...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Alliances and Allegiances.<strong>

Sam woke to an empty bed and after a few seconds of confusion, heard the radio playing downstairs. He rolled onto his side and stared at the display on the clock, before groaning and sinking down into the covers for a few more minutes.

He finally got up, and walked downstairs into the kitchen, to the most wonderful sight. Andy was standing in front of the stove in just his t-shirt. She was clutching a mixing bowl against her side and was whisking furiously, as she sang along to the music.

"Hi," she giggled, when she noticed him staring dumbfounded.

"What are you doing Andy? It's 5am," Sam said, shaking his head.

"I'm baking. I couldn't decide between a chocolate cake or a lemon cake, but we only have oranges, so I'm making a chocolate orange cake instead," she said all in one breath. Wiping the back of her floury hand across her cheek, she continued whisking the mixture.

"Why?" was all Sam managed to say.

"For Sarah. I don't want to meet her empty handed, and as I have exactly seven dollars in my purse, I thought a cake would be a nice way to say hi."

Andy smiled in a way that he loved. Sam smiled back, unable to find a fitting response.

"Come back to bed for a bit longer," Sam whispered, turning off the radio.

"Give me five," Andy said tipping the contents of the bowl into a baking tray.

Sam opened the oven door, as she carefully slid the tray in, before closing it.

"This..." she said, licking the mixture of one finger and putting a chocolate covered thumb into Sam's mouth, "Should be a good cake."

"Tastes good," Sam agreed, pulling her close.

"I love you Sam," she said seriously.

"Me too, but can we please go back to sleep?"

Andy laughed, and set the timer, before following Sam back upstairs to bed.

* * *

><p>"Detective Barber," Jerry said into the phone, as he poured sweetener into his coffee. "Good Morning Rita," he continued, growing accustomed to her daily communications.<p>

"Any progress with the case? We are still chasing up a few leads. Hmmm... Right. When was that? Yesterday. Okay. Yes. Thanks for letting me know."

Jerry continued to scribble a few notes down before he said goodbye.

"What did she want now?" Luke asked, focussing his eyes on another case file.

"Wayne Romano. Rita thought we should know that he's back from his vacation."

"So what do you want to do?" Luke asked.

"Haul him in!" Boyd snarled, as he marched into the detectives office, throwing his jacket onto the table.

"For what? Right now he's only helping us with our enquiries," Jerry said, noting his foul mood.

"Arrest him, don't arrest him. I don't care; just get him in so I can talk to him."

"What's eating you?" Luke asked.

"Eating me? What's eating me is...Just get Romano down here Blondie," Boyd snapped.

He popped the lid off a bottle of pills, tipped a few into his mouth and washed it down with Jerry's coffee.

"Take it easy Boyd," Luke said, staring at Jerry for assistance.

"Callaghan's right. You need to cool down or you won't be talking to anybody," Jerry said calmly.

* * *

><p>"Did it burn?" Sam asked sleepily.<p>

"No, it's cooked to perfection. I've left it to cool," Andy replied before sliding back into the bed next to him.

She snuggled closer to his body, enjoying the closeness before getting ready to leave for St Catherine's.

"Do you think Sarah will like me?" Andy asked after a while.

"Of course she will," Sam said.

"And what about her husband?"

"Steven. He's a good guy. Besides if Sarah likes you, Steven isn't going to argue with that. Sarah can be very...opinionated," Sam said as he yawned.

"Must be a Swarek trait," she teased.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sam replied, as he pulled Andy nearer, and closed his eyes.

"Are you going to fall asleep again?"

"I'm just resting my eyes," he chuckled.

"Resting your eyes? That's a new one."

Sam rubbed his thumb across her shoulder, trying to formulate in words how he was really feeling. He wasn't great with big speeches, but wanted Andy to understand just how happy he was that she had chosen him, and that it wasn't something he took for granted.

"You don't need him, Andy. You have me, Traci..."

"And Dad," she added, reassuring herself.

Sam nodded.

"Most definitely your dad. I don't know what Tommy said to you yesterday, but you are glowing."

"It's hard to explain, but dad helped me to see things more clearly."

"You don't have to explain, I'm just happy he's managed to bring you to a place that I couldn't."

"I have Oliver too. I like him."

"I know, and he likes you too. You also have the other rookies. So what I'm saying is..."

"I know what you're saying Sam, and I agree. So no more distractions, let's keep things nice and simple from now on."

Andy nuzzled into his chest, taking a deep breath. "Ten more minutes," she instructed, her eyes closing as she yawned. "Then we must get up, and beat the traffic."

"Okay McNally," Sam whispered, before falling asleep once more.

* * *

><p>Jerry watched closely as Wayne Romano, walked into the interview room. He wasn't quite what he expected. He stood straight, walking with a swagger and a confidence that did not really match his svelte, gangly physique. Romano smelt strongly of soap and cologne, Hugo Boss if Jerry wasn't mistaken.<p>

"Thanks for coming in Mr Romano," Jerry said shaking his hand enthusiastically.

"Not a problem detective, anything I can do to help. Although I don't think there is anything else I could add to your investigation."

Jerry took a seat and undid the button of his jacket, mindful that Boyd and Callaghan were watching through the two way glass. He didn't know what was up with Boyd today. Sure his temperament was normally prickly and abrupt at the best of times, but that was an understatement compared with today. Jerry told him to cool down before he came into the interview room. If Wayne Romano knew something, they had to tread carefully, otherwise risk him clamming up.

"Your neighbours said you were away when we first called around. Anywhere nice?" Jerry questioned, as he organised several files on the table.

"Italy. My wife and I go every year. We have a villa."

"Well I don't know much about Italy, but house prices have got to be high there right? I couldn't afford to buy a place overseas on my salary. How did you manage? I mean a gardener's salary..."

"Head gardener," Wayne corrected.

"Sorry, head gardener. I mean, did you win the lottery or something?" Jerry asked as he laughed.

"No, my parents left it to me in their will."

Jerry nodded, thinking of his next approach.

Wayne looked at him steady and calm in the eye but in a way that was difficult to describe. Almost stubborn, defiant, self assured and a little mercenary.

"Would you like a drink Mr Romano? Something to eat maybe? We can't offer Italian cuisine, but we could stretch to a sandwich."

"No. I'm good detective."

"So how do you know Anton Hill, Mr Romano? I mean I know you are old friends, but how did you meet?"

"Anton Hill? I don't know anybody of that name," Wayne replied.

"Oh. What about Carlos Alvarez?"

"Forgive me detective, but what is this about?"

Jerry stared at him closely, looking for any subtle signs.

_Nothing._

"I'm just following up lines of enquiries regarding Tony's death. I'd like to see if you recognise anybody. Is that alright?"

Wayne motioned with his hand for Jerry to continue.

"So, Carlos Alvarez?"

"No, I don't know anybody of that name."

"How about Jimmy McGregor, sometimes known as Jimmy the Juice?" Jerry continued.

"Detective, I have no idea who or what you are talking about."

Wayne opened a pack of peppermints and popped one into his mouth. He offered one to Jerry, who declined.

"These men, Jimmy and Carlos are associates of Anton Hill."

"Anton who?"

"Anton Hill. I mentioned him earlier," Jerry reiterated, not completely convinced by his obtuseness.

"Right yes, and as I told you I don't know who he is."

"The thing is, Mr Romano, I was under the impression you put in a good word with Anton Hill in order to get Tony a job."

"You're mistaken. I never did such a thing."

"So your cousin is wrong? She seemed to think you helped get her son his job."

"Look detective, Rita is still grieving, we all are but she's clutching onto straws, and combined with the medication she's on... well let's just say I wouldn't take what she says as the truth. I lead a simple life, why would I be mixing with people that sound to me as if they are on the wrong side of the law?"

"So how did Tony get the job?"

"He applied, had an interview and was successful... I suppose."

"And you had no influence on this success?"

"Well if you call telling Tony that I saw a vacancy sign in a restaurant window an influence, then I suppose the answer is yes."

"You saw a sign in a window?"

"Yes, a few months back, and I mentioned it to Rita and Tony."

"What did this sign say?"

"Driver wanted, apply within. The usual spiel."

Wayne took another peppermint and dropped it in his mouth. They were strong, and the smell was beginning to make Jerry nauseous.

"So you are sure that you've never heard of Anton Hill?" Jerry repeated.

"No," Wayne said, as he began to tap his finger on the table impatiently.

Jerry looked at him closely, Romano was giving nothing away. He pulled out another file comprising of a list of Hill's possible associates, names they had never been able to fully link with Anton Hill. He watched as Wayne continued to tap his finger on the table, never once losing its momentum.

"Does the name Billy Samuels ring a bell?"

"No."

"Danny Rebeiro?"

"No."

"Simon Webber?"

"No detective, I can't say it does," Wayne replied sounding bored.

"Vincent Morelli?"

"No."

"Maurice Laville?"

His finger stopped, losing its beat for a second, before it continued drumming again.

"No."

_Too late. J_e_rry saw it._

"Do you mind me checking if my colleague has any questions?" Jerry asked. "I promise we won't keep you much longer."

"Fine detective," he replied, his finger tapping to its original beat.

Jerry left the interview room, taking the files with him.

"He's lying," he said to Luke and Boyd, once he was sure the door was firmly closed.

"Go back in and apply the pressure or I will," Boyd snapped, still holding on to his mysterious anger from earlier.

"Let's just think about this a moment before we go in guns blazing. This is the first real lead we've had since this case began."

"Why do we think he's holding back?" Jerry asked to no one in particular.

"Isn't it obvious? He's scared of Hill," Luke stated.

"No," Jerry said shaking his head, "I'm not feeling fear of Hill, it's like...loyalty. He knows Hill and is protecting him for some reason. I'll bet my badge on it."

The three detectives continued to observe Wayne Romano, as he popped another peppermint into his mouth, and began to tap his finger on the table once again.

_"Okay, Rock-Paper-Scissors. Best out of three," Jimmy suggested._

_"I'm not playing silly games," Maurice groaned. "Anton, you agreed to do this days ago, and the other workers are still complaining."_

_Maurice stared across the warehouse, and watched Wayne as he swept. Andy had a little broom and was helping too. He couldn't help but smile, Peppermint Wayne was good with her. He just smelt. Real bad._

_"Why can't you tell him Anton? You hired him," Maurice sighed. "Why is this down to me? Jimmy, Carlos you guys could volunteer too."_

_"Because as you said, I'm an insensitive pig," Anton laughed, secretly glad he didn't have to do it._

_"I never said that," Maurice replied._

_"No but that's what you meant, and you're probably right. Look I can't be subtle about thing like that, and this requires tact."_

_"It's true my friend," Carlos added. "You are the only man for the job. Wayne needs to know."_

_After losing in several rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Maurice rose, and made his way over to the pair._

_"Go get 'em tiger," Jimmy whispered, as the other guys laughed._

_Maurice threw them a murderous glance, and took a deep breath._

_"Andy, go and sit with your uncles," he said firmly, turning towards Wayne._

_"Wayne, can we talk for a minute?" he asked nervously._

_"Sure boss," he replied, as he limped to where Maurice was standing._

_They made their way outside of the warehouse, and sat on the bench that faced the building. Wayne looked uncomfortable, shifting his position several times. Maurice chose it so the others wouldn't hear what he was saying, but also because he needed the fresh air, he already felt the pungent smell of stale sweat and peppermint sticking to his clothes._

"_So how are things going?" Maurice asked, unsure of how to approach the topic of his body odour._

"_Good, boss. You know I like working here, gives me a reason to wake up in the mornings. I thought I would never get a job looking like this," Wayne admitted, pointing to his back."You and Mr Hill have no idea how much having a job means to me."_

"_Well we don't look at things like that here. If you get the seal of approval from Anton, then it's good enough for me," Maurice explained, with the nod of his head._

"_Peppermint?" Wayne offered._

"_No I'm fine. Look... the thing is Wayne we have a problem. It's an easily solvable problem, but a problem none the less."_

_Wayne turned to look at Maurice, waiting for him to continue._

"_Some of the other workers have commented that...well they feel that you sweat a lot, and because we work close to one another and the weather is very hot at the moment...well they feel..."_

"_They feel that I smell," Wayne continued._

"_Well...Yes," Maurice said, taken aback by his accurate assessment of the situation._

_Wayne sighed pushing two peppermints into his mouth at the same time._

_"I know I smell boss," he muttered sadly._

_"Look it's not a problem, a nice shower gel or soap and a good scrub and Voilà! Problem solved," Maurice sang._

_"I know what it takes to stay clean," Wayne said bitterly, "I try, I do...I just can't do it properly that's all. I'm stiff, I'm twisted and I have no flexibility...just to get dressed each morning is hard enough."_

_Maurice wished the ground would open a swallow him up._

"_Hey man...don't be upset. I didn't think about it that way. I can see how it would be a problem."_

_"Well, it's not your problem right?" Wayne said. _

_"That's not true, that's not how we operate here."_

_Wayne was not listening, and blinked away a few tears of frustration._

_"I went to see a specialist once to see if he could fix it...straighten it out; maybe get rid of the limp or at least the pain..."_

_Wayne offered Maurice another peppermint, which he took to be polite, but not enjoying its sweet, minty taste._

_"So what did he say? This specialist."_

_"That I was a high risk. He recommended a surgeon he trained with who had a practice in the Florida, but it was just too much money, and then there's the recovery time, medication...I'm sorry boss," he said looking embarrassed by his chatter, "I'll try harder to keep clean; I don't want to lose this job."_

_"Please, call me Maurice."_

_Wayne nodded, shifting his foot nervously._

_"So this surgeon..." Maurice said softly, "did he think he could do something for you?"_

_"Yeah, but it was a risk...something to do with the spinal cord tearing, but I didn't care. I just want a shot at a real life you know? Maybe meet a lady and get a job working outdoors. I love the fresh air," he sighed._

_"I love the outdoors too. I grew up in the countryside, my grandparents were farmers."_

_"Yeah?" Wayne said._

_"Yeah. I used to help them plant vegetables, milk the cows...real country living. Fresh eggs and milk every day, it's one of life's simple pleasures."_

_"I'd like to be a gardener," Wayne said timidly._

_"There's no reason why not, you just need to have a plan. Good planning is the key to success," Maurice reasoned._

_"You think so?"_

_"I know so."_

* * *

><p>"Is this what you call saving time?" Andy teased.<p>

"Yep," Sam said as he placed a gentle kiss on her wet shoulder.

"We shouldn't have stayed in bed that extra hour," Andy laughed softly, enjoying the feeling of the water cascading over them.

"Was it an hour?" Sam asked, feigning ignorance.

"Anyway. I was just thinking how nice this is...just being here with you."

"I know what you mean," Sam nodded. "It's been a crazy few weeks."

He took a step closer, bracing an arm against the tiles on either side of her body.

"So no regrets about choosing us?"

"No."

"Good. You don't need him; we don't need him in our lives, any of it. In here, nothing matters but you and me."

Sam poured some shampoo into his hands and began to wash her hair. Just being with Andy made him morph into a new and improved Sam, who enjoyed doing things like that. Andy bent her head back, enjoying the moment, and sighed as his fingers massaged her scalp.

"Sam?"

"Hmmm."

"I have a brother."

Andy had no idea why she chose to tell him whilst they were naked under the shower, but she did.

"A brother? You never mentioned him before," he said surprised, as he dropped his hands from her hair.

"I never knew," she said, as she lifted his hands back to her head.

Taking her cue, he began to massage her scalp again and nodded slowly.

"So what was he like?"

"I don't know, I've never met him. I just know his name is Christopher, he's younger than me and we have the same mom and dad."

Sam rinsed her hair, careful not to push her to talk before she was ready.

"I won't be meeting him, I don't need the stress. You're right, I'm better off without it. I'm calmer and happier than I've been in a long time, and I like it. I just wanted to tell you that's all."

"Okay," Sam said softly, pulling her into an embrace, as they enjoyed a few more minutes of just them.

* * *

><p>"Mr Romano, this is my colleague Detective Boyd," Jerry said as they both took a seat.<p>

Wayne nodded, watching the new man intently.

"I would like you to have a look at these photographs, just tell me if any of these faces look familiar."

Jerry watched closely as Boyd laid out a selection of photographs from their database. He saw the usual faces; Hill, McGregor, Alvarez but was surprised to find a photo of Sam and Andy amongst it all. He threw Boyd a cautious glance, but tried to remain neutral.

"No, I don't recognise anyone," Wayne said staring directly at Jerry.

"Humour us Mr Romano," Boyd said tightly. "Please give this more than a two second glance. The person who killed Tony, and injured a police officer could be here."

Wayne looked at the photos, his eyes lingering a little too long at the photo of Andy before looking away.

"Do you recognise her?" Boyd asked, pointing at the photo of Andy.

"No, I just thought it was strange that she was the only girl there," Wayne remarked.

"Right," Boyd muttered.

"Anything else detectives? I really should be on my way," Wayne said.

"No that is all for now," Jerry said, as Boyd stormed out of the interrogation room.

"Okay...well, then I'll be only way," he said.

"If you wait a few minutes, I'll get one of our officers to drop you home, it's the least we can do."

Wayne nodded and took out the packet of peppermints from his jacket pocket. Of course he recognised every person in the photo, even the cop that almost got Anton sent down. He also recognised little Andy, who wasn't so little now. Anton had told him about her sudden reappearance, but even if he hadn't, she was the spitting image of Maurice. She had his eyes. Wayne was surprised his face wasn't there, but thankfully he was always in the background. Besides, he was out of it all, by the time things went down.

"_So what did he say?" Anton asked as Maurice returned._

_Anton turned in his chair to face his friend, trying his hardest not to wake Andy who had fallen asleep on his lap._

"_Hey, earth to Maurice!" he hissed._

"_Oh," Maurice chuckled, "sorry, just thinking."_

"_What happened?" Carlos added, "you were with him a while. How did he take it?"_

"_Surprisingly good," Maurice said, picking up Andy, who readjusted herself against his chest, and fell immediately back to sleep._

_Maurice looked at Anton and then towards Jimmy, who was counting some cash, separating them into piles of twenty and fifty dollars bills._

"_What? I haven't got anything else to add. He smells, so now hopefully he won't," Jimmy said._

"_It's not so straight forward Jimmy, but I think we can help."_

"_Oh boy. I know that tone..." Anton said._

"_What tone is that?" Carlos asked._

"_The 'I've found a bird with a broken wing' tone."_

_Maurice laughed softly, Anton really did know him well._

"_We are a team right? Well Wayne is part of that team, and I don't look at him like the other workers. He sees most of what we do and we rely on him to keep things running smoothly. He's an unsung hero."_

"_An unsung hero? Have you been sampling the merchandise?" Jimmy mocked, causing the other guys to laugh, at their long standing joke._

"_Look he works hard and is trustworthy, so I think we should reward him."_

"_How?" Anton groaned._

"_Listen, the guys got dreams, simple dreams that can be made reality. So do you think we could all spare five thousand dollars?"_

"_How much?" Carlos and Jimmy said in unison._

"_Sure," Anton said casually, taking his cut from pile on the table and tossing it towards Maurice._

"_Aren't you going to ask why?" Carlos asked._

"_No," Anton replied, as he shrugged his shoulders. "If Maurice wants it, then that's good enough for me."_

"_So are you going to tell me why? Because I need something to tell my wife when she asks why I didn't buy her the diamond bracelet I promised." Carlos enquired, as he unzipped his cowboy style boots, and pulled out a thick roll of one hundred dollar bills and began to count._

"_We're sending Wayne on a trip that could change his life," Maurice smiled._

"_Where too and why?" Jimmy asked. "Can he not take a coach and stay in a cheap motel rather than fly first class?" he asked shrewdly._

"_He's going to the states. Florida."_

"_What's in Florida, man?" Carlos asked._

"_We may have to run our own errands for the next three to six months, but there's a surgeon..." Maurice began, before looking over his shoulder at Wayne, as he put his proposal over towards his friends. _

* * *

><p>They arrived at St Catherine's a few hours later full of good spirits. Sam was looking forward to seeing his sister, her husband, nieces and nephew. As he pulled his truck into her drive, Sarah was standing in the doorway as always. Sam walked around towards the passenger side, opening the door as Andy slid out, balancing her freshly baked cake.<p>

"Ready McNally?" he asked.

"Yes. I think," she whispered shakily.

"Don't worry, they'll love you."

Sam gave her a quick kiss, and keeping a hand on the small of her back, made his way towards his sister, who had a huge smile.

"Sammy!"

"Hey sis," he said as they hugged.

"You've put on weight," she laughed, prodding his stomach. "This must be what having a good woman does."

She turned her attention fully to Andy.

"And you must be Sam's partner, Andy. I have heard so much about you."

"All good I hope. It's nice to finally meet you," Andy said offering Sarah her hand.

Sarah ignored it, and pulled her into a hug, as Sam grabbed the cake before it toppled over.

Sarah looked between the two and smiled; she opened her mouth to say something witty but thought better.

"So are we just gonna stand in your doorway?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Of course not brother dearest. After you."

They made their way into the living room, where Sam's two nieces, squealed with joy at seeing him.

"Uncle Sammy! Uncle Sammy!" they jumped and clapped with delight.

Andy couldn't help but smile as he crouched down and the smaller of the two wrapped her small arms around his neck and kissed him. The older girl waited patiently, and Sam scooped her into his arms too, kissing her head.

"How are my two beautiful girls?"

Sarah looked on adoringly, before tugging Andy into the kitchen.

"They'll come and join us in a while, and I'll introduce you."

She took the cake from Andy and smiled.

"You didn't have to buy anything," she said.

"I didn't buy it, I baked it," Andy said, slightly embarrassed.

"You bake too?" Sarah teased. "You really are special."

"No, I just...Well I thought..."

"I'm teasing Andy, just teasing. You'll get used to my humour, if you stick around long enough," she said casually, as she pulled several cups out of the cupboard.

She eyed Andy cautiously. "You are planning on sticking around right?"

"Well..."

"It's a simple question," she said a little more firmly. "Or are you just living out a school girl fantasy of bedding an older man?"

Andy looked at her speechless, and blushed profusely.

Sarah laughed. "Like I said, you'll get used to my humour."

"I like Sam a lot," Andy finally managed to say after realising Sarah was being...well Sarah.

"That's good," Sarah replied with warm eyes, "because my brother likes you a lot too."

Their conversation was brought to a halt, by Steven appearing, carrying a baby in his arms.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Steven, the long suffering husband, and this is James," bouncing a chubby baby in his arms.

"He's cute," Andy smiled.

"You wouldn't say that if you saw what I did in his diaper less than ten minutes ago," he laughed.

"Too much information, Steven," Sarah groaned, as she put a teabag into each cup.

Steven sat down next to her, watching amused as James stared at Andy and stretched out his hands to her.

"Oh he likes you."

"He seems to like ladies," Sarah laughed.

Andy took the baby, who seemed content in her arms and she rocked him back and forth, as he began to doze off.

"You're a natural Andy. Isn't she Steven?" Sarah announced, in a tone that lacked any subtlety.

Steven looked at his wife, and shook his head.

"Sammy!" Steven shouted, "You may want to come in and save your guest from Sarah."

Sam came in, with his two nieces.

"Charlotte and Natalie, say hello to my friend Andy."

"Hello," Charlotte said, and Natalie smiled shyly.

"Natalie is shy," Sarah explained, before handing them a cookie each.

"Hello," Andy said, as they both scampered off in to the living room to watch the television.

James had fallen asleep, and Steven took him from Andy. "I'll put him to bed," he whispered.

"You know, Andy," Sarah said as she poured hot water into the cups; "We Swarek's don't just let anybody in to our exclusive club.

Sam rolled his eyes, and sat next to Andy, sliding an arm discreetly around her waist. She leaned into him, which did not go unnoticed by Sarah, who did not comment.

"Sarah and Steven have their own unique brand of humour," Sam whispered.

"I heard that," Sarah laughed.

"Good."

"Listen Andy, I'm a little bit over protective of my baby brother that's all. But he seems happy, and so I'm happy. And if this cake tastes as good as it looks, then you are officially a member of the Swarek club."

"Is that all it takes?"

"Yeah, we're pretty cheap," she said smiling at Andy Warmly.

"Cheap is good," Andy laughed.

"Yeah, Andy can be way cheap," Sam agreed, as they both laughed.

Sarah looked at the two of them, realising this was some sort of private joke. For once she held back, and ate a slice of cake to stop herself from spoiling the moment.

Her brother was in love.

* * *

><p>"What the hell was that about?" Jerry said.<p>

"What? Romano couldn't tell me anything so I left."

"Without saying goodbye or thanking him for his time?"

"He's not my friend," Boyd scoffed.

Luke shook his head, yet remained silent.

"What do you know about McNally?" he suddenly asked.

"As in Andy McNally?"

"Yes Andy McNally. Brunette, female, playing happy families with Sammy," he said.

"Well not much, but she's Traci's friend," Jerry explained.

Boyd folded his arms across his chest.

"Does she wanna be a detective like her old man?"

"I don't know what her career plans are. Traci is interested though."

Boyd waved his hand dismissively, clearly not interested in Traci.

"Does she wanna be a white shirt?"

"Who Traci?" Jerry asked bewildered.

"No McNally. We're talking about McNally here. Focus."

"Are we? You're confusing me man."

"That little bitch..."

"What the..." Luke spluttered.

"Whoa! That's Sammy's lady and Traci's best friend, so you just stop right there," Jerry shouted, before walking away.

Figuring that they wasn't going to get to the bottom of Boyd's anger and not wanting to push his buttons, the two detectives let it go. His mood didn't improve any throughout the day and as soon as he left for the evening, Jerry sighed in relief. Hopefully he'd be in a better mood tomorrow, because if Boyd continued to spout his opinions in Sam's presence, 15 Division would have World War III on their hands.

* * *

><p>The following day Sam and Andy entered the barn to be greeted by their friends.<p>

"Good to have you back McNally," Oliver said.

Andy gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you too Oliver."

"Yeah, Yeah. But did you bring me any food?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oliver!" Andy laughed, before he and Sam wandered off to get changed.

She continued to talk to her friends for some time before making her way to the locker room with Traci before parade with very little time to spare.

"Move it McNally," Traci teased. "Some of us are already changed."

Boyd spent most of his evening angry and drunk. By the time morning arrived, his mood had gotten worse. He stormed through the division, searching for one person in particular. McNally. He saw the back of her head as she entered the female locker room, and quickened his pace to catch her.

"Beat it Nash," Boyd snapped, as he entered the female locker room.

"What the...Excuse me?" Traci said, turning her gaze away from the mirror as she fixed her hair.

"Yeah you're excused," he said caustically. "I need a word with McNally over there."

"Well I don't think..."

"I need to speak to her in private. Are you arguing with a senior officer?"

Traci left reluctantly with a feeling of trepidation. Boyd scared her, but she knew one person who he didn't scare, and made her way to find him. Fast.

Andy slipped her tank top off placing it onto the bench, next to her uniform. She quickly pulled on her sports bra and began to braid her hair.

"McNally..." Boyd shouted, pointing his index finger at her.

Andy jumped, startled by his voice. "You need to get out of here. I'm changing," she said annoyed; holding her shirt in front of her chest.

"You can change later," he spat as he walked towards her, and slammed her locker door hard.

Andy stepped back down the row of lockers, towards the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Away from you."

"You're not going anywhere; we need to have a talk right now."

"I don't want to talk to you," she said in a panicked voice.

"Tough."

His eyes followed her movements closer, like a predator stalking his prey.

"So are you going to see him today? Maybe have a spot of lunch?" Boyd snarled.

"When have you been so concerned with my social life?" she challenged.

"Since you started having dinner dates with Hill, and we're not leaving here till you tell me why."

_He knew about Anton._

Andy's mind began to scramble events of the last week and her heart began to race. Although there were a million thoughts whirling around her mind, the overriding thought was to run. She shifted to the right, seeking an escape at the end of the row of lockers.

Boyd shifted with her. "You can try if you want, but there's no way you're leaving here without telling me why you were with Hill."

Andy tried to run, but he reached out as she passed and dug his hand into her upper arm hard stopping her in her tracks.

"You're hurting me," she cried, suddenly scared.

"Are you working me McNally?" Boyd asked menacingly. He pulled her roughly towards him before he spoke again. "Because if you are, you're playing with fire."

* * *

><p>Traci, burst into the men's locker room.<p>

"Watch it Nash," Oliver piped up, "Zoe wouldn't like you to see my crown jewels."

"Where's Swarek?" she asked breathlessly.

"I don't know. Maybe talking to Frank...hey what's going on?" he asked, as Traci rushed back out of the room.

She saw Sam standing by the coffee jug, re-filling his cup, and joking with a few fellow officers.

"Nash," he said cheerily, as he brought the cup to his lips.

"There's no time for coffee!" Traci shouted as she knocked it out of his hands and onto the floor.

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked looking at his stained shirt.

"Maybe, but right now Boyd had Andy in the locker room, and I don't get a good feeling."

* * *

><p>"So is it you or Swarek?"<p>

"What are you talking about?"

"Which one of you two wants my spot in Guns and Gangs? Maybe it's you, trying to redeem the McNally name. Be the one to take down Hill."

"What...Why would I want to work for Guns and Gangs?"

"Quit acting dumb. You want to be the new chief. I'm next in line for that post. Do you think they are going to choose some rookie over me?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Then it's Sammy then. Was it you pressuring him to better himself? Because he never wanted it before. That promotion is mine."

The door to the locker room swung opened but he didn't bother checking to see who it was. Instead he gripped her arm tighter, and Andy winced.

"Are you scared McNally? You should be. You have no idea what I am capable of."

"Yeah, well I'm not scared," Sam said as he entered the room. "Let her go, Boyd. Now!"


	19. Chapter 19

**AN- Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter, they continue to make my day. Special thanks to dcj for entertaining my usual ramblings. I hope you all enjoy my next installment; it was tricky and required a lot of patience!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: With Best Intentions.<strong>

When Sam saw Boyd pressed up against Andy, and the fear in her eyes, he immediately thought of Sarah, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Glad you're here Sammy," Boyd said keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Andy.

"Sam," Andy sighed to herself with relief, as she tried to move.

"Be quiet," Boyd hissed as she tried to pull away. "Just. Shut. Up."

"I said let her go!" Sam shouted.

"What are you going to do?" Boyd baited Sam. "Do you want me to blurt out your dirty secret?"

Boyd turned and wasn't expecting half of the division to enter the locker room, and his grip slackened momentarily in surprise before tightening once more. He was getting anxious, and Andy could tell. She knew she could hit him, or use a technique to get out of his hold, but this wasn't a perp, it was Boyd. He'd seen her with Anton, and he could announce it now in front of everybody. She didn't know what to do. Sam caught Andy's eye, and he could tell she was scared, really scared.

Sam had enough, and pulling Boyd roughly off Andy, punched him square in the face.

"Let's hear it Boyd, I dare you," he threatened, as his chest rose and fell heavily.

Andy slid down the wall, trying desperately to control her breathing, and sheer panic of the current situation. She wanted to warn Sam that Boyd knew, but was rendered speechless.

"Screw you, Swarek!" Boyd snapped, as he curled his hand into a fist and rushed towards Sam. Sam caught it before it came anywhere near him, and delivered two similar blows causing Boyd to stumble against the row of lockers and fall dazed.

Andy looked on horrified, before returning her focus to Sam.

"Sam," she whispered her voice barely audible over their harsh breathing.

"It's me," Sam whispered, as his hand found her shoulder. He crouched down to her level and stared at her carefully. "You're okay," he whispered, pulling Andy towards him until her shoulder rested against his chest. She grasped the material of his uniform as she struggled to control her breathing, forcing him impossibly closer to her. She needed to feel him, to know that he was okay, that they both were. She rested her forehead against his shoulder, allowing herself to relax against him. After a few seconds she tried to pull away, but Sam pulled her back.

"It's okay," he whispered again. "Nothing will happen as long as I'm around."

Andy nodded into his chest, and held him tight.

"Now put your shirt on, and go and get some fresh air. I need to talk to Boyd alone."

* * *

><p>Andy made her way to the parking compound, and sat on a wall, suddenly wishing she had brought a coat with her. She was cold and wrapped both arms around her waist as she tried to keep warm. Taking slow and steady breaths, Andy tried to relieve her anxiety, by thinking of a happy moment. Usually it was about her and Margaret, but not always. The key was to hold on to the first image that materialises, and not try to change it, but to go with it and the feelings it evokes.<p>

She closed her eyes for a few moments and after taking several more deep breaths allowed her mind to go somewhere else. She was a little girl again, and she's playing.

_She's at the beach and she can feel the heat of the sunshine on her skin, and can hear the lulling sounds of the waves. The air is thick with salt, and the seagulls swirl across a bright blue sky. She's wearing a pink swimming costume that ties around her neck. His skin seems darker than the photos, and his jaw is shadowed because he hadn't shaved that day. She felt the prickle of its stubbly growth on her cheek when he kissed her that morning. His trouser legs are rolled up and they are running across the wet sand. In this world she is free with him; there are no secrets to keep, just a father and his little princess._

_"Here I come!" he cries, before catching her, and twirling her around in the air. She giggles with delight and wraps her arms around him. His laughter is deep, yet smooth, and he promises to buy her an ice-cream. _

"Andy?" Traci whispered, as the memory faded away.

"Hey," she replied softly, suddenly feeling cold again.

"What the heck was all that about back there?"

Andy shrugged and rubbed her arms vigorously up and down her arms.

"I'm just waiting for the dust to settle before I go back inside," Traci continued. "Swarek is furious. I've left Jerry and Oliver there with him, and thought I would see how you're doing. Boyd was really holding you tight, it must have hurt," Traci added before sitting close.

"I'm fine."

Traci scoffed. "Yeah right."

Andy stared at her closely, wanting to say so much more.

"Not the greatest first day back," Traci stated.

"I've had worse."

"Yeah, like you're first day!" Traci teased, as she handed Andy her cup of coffee.

Andy inwardly cringed at the reminder of another McNally mess-up.

"Look Trace, Boyd was just in a bad mood, I guess he chose to take it out on me," she rationalised.

"You were never a good liar," Traci mumbled, but knew when Andy didn't want to be pushed.

She playfully bumped Andy's shoulder and smiled.

"Oh, I wish I was a fly on the wall right now. Swarek is one guy you don't want to piss off."

Traci continued to talk, and Andy nodded every so often to convey interest, but she wasn't listening. She suspected Traci knew this too; after all they were best friends. Andy's mind had wandered.

S_he is back on the beach eating an ice-cream cone, a double scoop held tightly with one hand, whilst the other clasped between her father's. He is talking, but is was watching the seagulls as they glide in the sky. He says he loves her, and she says she loves him too and she means it. Uncle Anton appears, and sneakily takes a large bite of her ice-cream._

"_Hey! You ate my ice-cream."_

"_Wasn't me kid, maybe it was the seagulls," he says in all seriousness, pointing at the sky._

"_Uncle Anton!" she laughs, as he grabs her cone and begins to run away, closely followed by Andy and Maurice in hot pursuit_.

Andy shook her head, bringing her back to reality.

"I think I should go back and find Sam," she whispered nervously.

"Finish your coffee first," Traci said warmly.

Andy nodded and began to drink, listening to another of Traci's stories about Leo's latest escapades. Her breathing had almost returned to normal, and felt a sense of calm from her memories. Memories are the one part of it all that doesn't feel stressful, and have started becoming clearer and more frequent over the last few weeks. Rather than fight them like she used to, she allows them to wash over her, and they make her smile. 'Memories can't hurt you', Tommy had said to her recently, 'only people can.'

She smiled remembering that time on the beach, and wished that Christopher was with them that day, so he could complete that almost perfect memory. Right now he wasn't even a memory, but just a list of facts and that suddenly didn't feel right. That prospect made Andy ache somewhere deep inside. She ached for a memory of him that she could hold on to and cherish.

Boyd has the potential to hurt her, and she holds on to that thought before she faces the aftermath.

* * *

><p>"What the hell are you playing at Boyd?" Sam growled, as he lunged forward, attempting to take another shot.<p>

Jerry and Oliver pulled Sam back, having never seen him so angry. They had managed to clear the locker room from nosing officers looking for more gossip to add to the rumour mill. It was just the four of them alone.

"What the hell am I playing at? Don't you think you need to answer that? I know Sammy; I know you and McNally have been seen with Hill!"

Sam inhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head. "Do you really want to do this here and now?"

"Do you?" Boyd questioned.

"What's this about?" Jerry interjected, looking between Sam and Oliver.

"Yeah Sammy, what's this about?" Boyd mocked as he arched an eyebrow; finally having the upper hand.

* * *

><p>Anton sat in the dimly lit bar across town, that was surprisingly busy so early in the day. It was mostly filled with men in expensive suits having early business lunches, and beautiful women wearing the latest designer fashions. He saw Wayne enter and make his way over to where he was seated.<p>

"Sorry I couldn't meet you yesterday...family matters," Anton groaned as he greeted Wayne with a hand shake.

"Is everything alright at home?" Wayne asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, just my sister-in-law was in town..."

"Rather you than me," Wayne chuckled, having previously met Priscilla's younger sister, Pamela.

"So what did the cops want?" Anton asked, as Wayne slid onto the bar stool.

"To talk about Tony...and you."

Wayne signalled to the bartender for whatever Anton was drinking, as he shrugged off his coat, and rubbed his hands together.

"What did you tell them?"

"What could I say Anton? I don't actually know what happened. Tell me why I shouldn't have told them everything I knew?"

"Because we go too far back for that, that's why."

"What happened? I don't know what to believe. Rita is a mess, and is blaming me. I'm blaming me."

Wayne took a large gulp of Brandy, as soon as the glass was placed in front of him.

"Do you really want the truth, Wayne?"

"Don't I deserve it? I got him the job. He was a good kid man, his whole life ahead of him."

"I shot him," Anton said calmly.

"Why?"

"Because he fucked up big time. I thought he had killed Andy and I was mad. He really did a number on her, there was blood everywhere. Johnny will tell you, we thought she was dead."

"Did you have to kill him?" Wayne queried, turning to face him.

"Probably not my smartest move, but he just wouldn't stop talking, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I just wanted him to shut up, and I snapped."

"You haven't been thinking clearly for a long time."

"Yeah, well..." Anton replied, nursing the drink in his hand.

"I know it's not your kind of thing, but maybe you should..."

"Don't go there Wayne and if you weren't my friend, I'd shoot you now too," he said full of cynicism.

The two men continued to drink in silence. Anton took his comments good-naturedly. Wayne was one of a select few he would allow to have an opinion, even if it was a load of mumbo jumbo.

"Well you'd better make sure there's nothing to incriminate you; the cops are on a mission to put you behind bars."

"Yeah? What's new," Anton shrugged.

"There was one detective...Boyd I think he was called. He had photos of the old crew. I didn't like that guy, all leather and attitude. He walked out of the room when I said I didn't know anything."

"Was he young?"

"Yeah."

"Figures," Anton mumbled, as if that explained everything.

"They were asking about Jimmy, Carlos and Maurice. They even mentioned Billy, Vincent, Simon...They've gone back far."

"Simon?" Anton smirked. "They need to get their records updated; He's been Simone since 1992."

The two men laughed.

"I'm sorry about Tony, I really am," Anton said more seriously. "Sometimes I get so mad and see nothing but red. And seeing her like that...I didn't mean it to happen."

"I know you didn't mean it to happen. God, I can't believe I'm supporting you in this!" Wayne cried. "But I know you."

"Really? I'm not a bad and wicked man that should be locked away?" Anton questioned, applying his gruff exterior once more.

"You're complicated."

"Nicely saved, Wayne."

"But it's true. We both know you make crazy decisions, in the heat of the moment, when you're emotional and your mind isn't fully there. You go into a destructive mode. You stop caring and there is so much anger. Too much anger."

Anton was about to protest, but relented.

Wayne continued his tirade. "Smuggling guns, exotic animals and prostitution. That's not the Anton I know, who gave me a job when no one else would. What happened to him?"

"He grew up and realised it was better to screw than be screwed."

Anton lifted his glass and drank, unconcerned and unapologetic at his words.

"Who paid for both my parents' funeral costs..." Wayne continued, regardless.

"Well I won't be paying for yours," he said dryly.

Wayne stopped and looked at Anton pointedly, who kept his gaze ahead, not quite willing to meet his eye.

Wayne took another deep breath and he closed his eyes. "Look," he says, his voice lower than he'd intended. "I know you hate it when I bring this up, and you already shot me down earlier, as well as every other time I bring it up..."

"So don't bring it up."

"Look it helped me, helped me sort through my feelings and gave me the confidence I needed. The surgery was only half of the story. The therapy really helped, and it can help you too. Anton, you need to deal with it."

"You still owe me five grand by the way," Anton said, using his carefully skilled avoidance technique, whenever the subject was mentioned.

"Maurice wouldn't want this for you."

Anton could feel the sting in his eyes at those words, yet remained silent. He signalled to the bartender for a re-fill.

"You want me to drop it?" Wayne asked, already knowing the response.

"Ten out of ten Wayne," Anton said sarcastically.

They sat drinking in silence once again.

"I saw her that day too," Wayne said, staring at his glass.

"Who?"

"Andy. Well her photo anyway. Maybe you should call her. See if she can give you the heads up on what's going on."

"Things are a little bit strained right now," Anton said taking a sip.

"You gonna sort it out? There have been a lot of lost years already."

"I'm working on it."

Wayne popped a Pretzel in his mouth, and nodded.

"She looks like him a lot, doesn't she?"

"Tell me about it. It's like the universe is playing some sort of sick joke at my expense."

Anton finished his drink, in one large gulp, before turning to look at his friend.

"You need a ride?" Wayne asked, as he rose.

"Nah, I'm good. Johnny is waiting."

Wayne's eyes scanned the bar, and nodded at Johnny in the far corner; who raised his glass of tonic water in acknowledgement.

"So we'll all meet up when Jimmy is back in town, and things quieten down. Play a game of poker?" Wayne asked.

"Sure," Anton sighed, as he pulled on his coat.

"When did life get so complicated?" Wayne lamented.

"November 15, 1989," Anton answered, before putting on his coat, and walking out of the crowded bar.

* * *

><p>"I'm glad Jerry's here, saves me having to repeat myself. So why don't you tell us what you and McNally were doing with Hill?"<p>

"Where did you hear that?" Sam asked, trying desperately to find an answer without revealing the truth.

"What's going on Sammy?" Oliver asked. "We need to get moving before Frank comes in and finds four men in the ladies locker room. That will take some explaining," Oliver said trying to lighten the mood. "Let's just cool off, and forget this ever happened."

"Sorry Oliver, no can do. I have an obligation to report a fellow officer who I believe is _dirty_," Boyd continued, keeping his eyes on Sam.

Sam remained silent, weighing up just how serious Boyd was. The locker room door opened, and both Traci and Andy entered. The atmosphere was tense, and Traci looked at Jerry for guidance, whose gaze shifted between Boyd and Sam at a rapid speed.

"Officer McNally, maybe you can help your boyfriend answer the burning question."

Traci looked at Andy. "What's he talking about?"

"What I'm talking about, Nash." Boyd explained as he rose to his feet, "is why Sammy and his girlfriend were seen with Anton Hill. Sammy seems to have lost his power of speech, so McNally is going to help him out."

"It was me," Andy explained, as all eyes turned to her. "I..."

"We were investigating Hill...off the record," Sam said steadily.

"Bull!" Boyd snapped. "That little chat he had with McNally was not 'investigating'. You're both dirty, just man up and admit it."

"She was trying to get into his good books, see if she could get some evidence for the Carlucci case. She kept me informed the whole time."

"Okay, so if Sammy says he was investigating Hill, then that's what was happening," Oliver added.

"So tell me how and why McNally got into his 'good books' because if she's that skilled, maybe she should be doing undercover work instead of you."

All eyes turned to McNally.

"He didn't know who I was, I met him at a grocery store by chance, and we got talking. He invited me for coffee so I took the initiative to see if maybe I could get something to help with the investigation."

Andy had no idea if they were buying into her story, but seeing Sam nod, encouraged her to continue with her fictitious tale.

"That was dangerous McNally," Jerry chided.

"Yeah, well like I said, she kept me informed throughout," Sam reiterated.

"Okay, so the misunderstanding is resolved, so why don't you both kiss and make-up," Oliver said relieved by what he had heard.

"Not quite," Boyd added, as he circled Sam.

"So what were you doing there Sammy? You were seen arguing with Hill. Did he short change you?"

"Look, I went to ask him a few questions about the case and it was stupid now that I think about it. The guy hates me right? So the conversation went nowhere, and that was the end of it. Don't try and make this something that it isn't Boyd, I never have and I never will be a dirty cop."

Sam was thankful for his years undercover, as he spun his tale with a straight face that was laced with a hint of annoyance at his integrity being questioned.

"I don't believe you."

"Well that's what happened," Sam said firmly, pulling Andy closer by the arm. "So if this little meeting is done, we have work to do. We've already missed parade, and Frank will be mad."

"I'm going to report you both."

"Do what you want Boyd, make yourself a laughing stock of this division. We've done nothing wrong."

"Yeah? Well let's see what Superintendent Peck has to say. I'm going to see her later, and I'm sure she'll be interested in my photos and what I have to say. I'm sure she'll want to speak to you both."

"Go to hell Boyd, before I give you a matching black eye!" Sam threatened.

Boyd sauntered out, throwing one last look over his shoulder, before the door closed behind him.

"Traci, Jerry, Oliver...stay," Sam commanded. "Somebody lock the door."

Andy looked at him with wide eyes, trying to silently plead with him not to do what she knew he was about to do.

"What's going on Sammy?" Jerry asked.

"Andy?" Traci added as she saw her best friend start to cry.

Sam pulled her close and kissed her hard. "I need you to trust me McNally," he said firmly. "Do you want to tell them, or shall I?"

"You," she said so quietly, and buried her head into his chest.

"I need to tell you all something off the record, and if you can't handle it then leave now and I won't hold it against you. I am begging you all to keep this between us for now. This is not for me, but for Andy."

"Oh God!" Andy choked, in between sobs.

"Sammy, we're a family. Whatever it is you can tell us, right?" Oliver questioned, looking around the room for confirmation of his words.

"We're not dirty cops, I swear on my life. Andy has been talking with Hill, and I confronted him about it, but that's all."

"Hill is my uncle...my mother's brother," Andy said, as she wiped away her tears, feeling she needed to be the one to say it.

The room was in total silence, no one knowing what to say and time seemed to stand still.

"Don't cry, Andy," Oliver said calmly. "You'll ruin your mascara, and black streaks are not sexy," he teased, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Sam could have kissed Oliver then, as he had a way of making the best out of a bad situation.

"That's right," Traci added, awakening from her initial shock. "You know about my cousin Marlon who's doing twenty in Maplehurst? Although Hill does trump my cousin on the wow factor."

Jerry who had been silent the whole time looked at the others seriously.

"Listen, we'll talk about this later, but right now you've got bigger problems."

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked.

"Didn't you hear Boyd? He's seeing Peck later. Are you still talking to Hill?" he asked Andy.

"Kind of."

"Well, you kind of need to get to him now, before Peck does. You need to make sure he's willing to back the story you gave Boyd, or the whole division will know. I take it that's why you kept it a secret."

Andy sighed, but did not respond.

"Look I get it; I do, but right now speak to Hill and tonight you need to tell me everything you know about his dealings."

"I don't know much, not really. We never discussed it."

"Listen, Andy are you prepared to help me put him away? I'll try my damnedest not to drag you through this, but any information you could give could help."

She looked at him, her eyes haunted. "Okay."

"You know this can't carry on. Hill has to be stopped. It's highly likely he was involved in the murder of Carlucci. "

"Right!" Oliver said authoritatively, "go do what you need to do, and we will all meet back after shift. Epstein and I will cover you the best we can, so go see Hill now."

* * *

><p>Sam parked the cruiser further down the road, whilst Andy walked the short distance to the retaurant.<p>

"Andy!" Anton gasped when he saw her. "You came back."

"I can't stay long. Sam is waiting for me. I...I shouldn't be here," she said nervously.

"Of course you should. I'm so glad you changed your mind. We thought, we'd lost you."

Anton reached out to touch her, but she recoiled. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Okay..."

"I need your help."

"Anything kid, you just have to ask."

Andy didn't know where to start, without going over old ground, which she was reluctant to do. She tried to keep her voice strong, without faltering as she explained her predicament simply and as quickly as she could.

"There's a detective... Donovan Boyd, really high up and well known."

Anton's face remained neutral, although he recognised the name from his conversation with Wayne earlier.

"Anyway, he's got photos, and knows I have met you. He's been asking questions."

"He had you tailed. Which means he had me tailed..."

"Yes, I guess; but that's not the point. He knows something, and I was this close to blurting it out. I was scared; he was shouting and hurting me. If Sam didn't show up when he did..."

"What do you mean he was hurting you?"

"He cornered me in the locker room, grabbed my arm so tight and was pressuring me for an answer."

Anton was agitated by her words, and fiddled with the ring on his finger.

"What did you tell him?"

"That I befriended you."

"I'm not some senile pensioner, that's lonely and needs some sort of community outreach," he said unimpressed with her answer.

"I said I was secretly investigating my attack and I also said that Sam came to you too, but because of your history, you argued and the conversation did not go so well."

Anton raised his eyebrow questionably at the mention of Sam's story.

"What else did you want me to say? We were on the spot."

"The truth. What's the worst that could happen? Everyone has a black sheep in the family. I just happen to be yours."

His simplistic look at things frustrated her, and she found herself crying.

"They'll talk about me, and I just can't stand that," she said tearfully.

Anton handed her a handkerchief and ushered for her to take a seat.

"There's worse things that being talked about," he reasoned.

"You just don't get it!" she wailed, and he could hear the pain in her voice.

"No. No I don't, so I need you to explain it to me," Anton said calmly, as he took her hand.

There was something in his tone of voice. It was new, yet still soft and caring, and she did not pull away. Andy wanted to hear it again, so she found herself explaining as best she could.

"Your reputation is all you have in this job; it can make you or break you. I already came into this with a black mark against my name. I was a McNally, and Tommy McNally's daughter at that."

She stopped to take a breath, and Anton nodded reassuringly, silently urging her to continue.

"My dad loved his job, and took pride in putting the bad guys away. He had a perfect record, and then one stupid indiscretion and thirty years of hard work amounted to nothing. He sacrificed his marriage for the job, and in the end he was asked to retire early. I've worked hard to make him proud, claw back some of his dignity... and mine."

"I'm sure you are good at your job," he said soothingly.

"People still talk, and I was reminded today by Boyd for the millionth time that my dad left in disgrace. Tommy McNally...too weak to deal with the job...had to turn to the bottle. I've heard it all. One legacy is enough to deal with, I can't deal with another."

"So you need me to back up your story if they ask? No problem. But I need a favour in return."

Andy looked at him through red rimmed eyes.

"Meet Christopher."

"No," she said firmly. She shook her head fiercely, ignoring the ache in the pit of her stomach. "If you've ever cared for me, you'll do this with no strings attached. I need this to go away, and I need you to stay away."

"We all need family," Anton said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

"I have my dad, friends and Sam, who loves me despite my baggage. I don't need anyone else."

"You think it's that simple? That you can erase your past?"

"I'm done with all the stress," Andy admitted. "I can never forget you, or Maurice, even if I tried, but this is the way it has to be."

"I'm sorry about how I behaved the other night...towards your dad when he called. I shouldn't have disregarded him like that," Anton said remorsefully.

"It wasn't the first time you've done that, he's a good dad," she said softly.

"I know, and it was wrong. I'm glad you had somebody like him to take care of you."

Andy shrugged, resignedly.

"There's nothing no one can do or say to break the relationship I have with my dad. I've heard it all before, but thanks for apologising. It means a lot to me."

She handed him back his handkerchief, and he sat back wounded by her words.

"Thanks for listening Uncle Anton, but can I give you some free advice? Try to turn your life around. You can't keep this life up forever; it's only a matter of time before it will catch up with you."

Andy walked away quickly before he could stop her, and question her further.

Anton was having trouble thinking clearly, as he tried to think of a way to make Andy re-consider her decision. The black cloud and anger, which had eluded him for the last several weeks, had returned with a vengeance.

* * *

><p>Boyd made his way to his parked vehicle, nursing a black eye. He sat in his seat, eyeing the photos that would be the final nail in the coffin for Swarek and McNally. He put his car into drive, and twenty minutes later pulled up outside his apartment having confirmed his meeting with Superintendent Peck for an hour later. Boyd liked Sam, and thought he was a good detective, but something was off in his story. Both he and McNally were dirty, or they were trying to steal his thunder. After today, he would find out for sure. He was looking forward to his meeting with Superintendent Peck, as she had a way of making the strongest of men cry and confess.<p>

He took one last look at the photos, McNally was definitely laughing with Hill, and she willingly went into his car. Hill who was notoriously private, closed off had McNally in his car, and both were comfortable to do so. He knew his suspicions were right, and he would prove it. Peck should make them talk, and he'd make sure he was there when it happened. He'd given up too much to get this far in his career; weddings, christenings, dates, graduations, putting in the hours to break cases which all led to this point. Taking down the notorious Anton Hill. That would make him as much of a legacy, if not more.

He barely noticed the black SUV as it pulled up beside him. If he had, he would have recognised it from his photographs.

It all happened in a blur; several hands pulled him roughly from his car, yet in total silence. He wanted to scream for help, but thought differently when he felt the cold metal of a gun barrel against his temple.

They pushed him into the back of their vehicle, and a pair of gloved hands snatched the Manila envelope from his grasp. He also took Boyd's cell phone, and smashed it with the back of his heel. One of the men got into the front seat and began to drive, picking up speed as it joined the highway, and a third man tied his eyes with a blindfold.

"Where are you taking me?" he trembled.

No one answered, and their only response was to turn up the radio louder, and drown out any further questions.

* * *

><p>"So how did that go?" Sam asked, as Andy climbed into the passenger seat of their cruiser.<p>

"Fine, I think. He said he'll cover for us."

"Good," Sam said relieved. "We need to get back on the radar; Oliver and Epstein are covering us."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and pulled off into the traffic, just as a call came through over the radio for B & E a few minutes away. Andy radioed they would take it, and Sam turned on the sirens so they could start some real policing of the day.

* * *

><p>"Donovan Montgomery Boyd," Anton read out aloud from a driving licence. "How many people know your middle name?" he taunted. "So you're the bad ass detective I've heard so much about? Looks like you need a good hair cut and a shave to me," Anton continued as he eyed Boyd distastefully.<p>

Anton took a seat, and sat facing Boyd, who tried his hardest to look unaffected although his expression would indicate otherwise. Anton looked at Boyd closely before returning his attention back to the driving licence.

"117 Pacific Heights, Toronto," he continued before stopping to think. "That's the new development on the other side of town, right? Nice taste Donovan, although it's a little bit too contemporary for my liking," he added.

"What's this about?" Boyd asked, finally finding his voice, which echoed around an empty warehouse.

Anton did not respond and continued to raid the wallet.

"Amex card, Visa card, Cash, Condoms...'no glove, no love'. Isn't that what the kids are saying nowadays right?" he said to a figure in the corner and out of view.

He pulled out old receipts, a dry-cleaning token and an organ donors card.

"This might be coming in handy sooner than you think, Donovan," he mocked, waving the donors card around aimlessly.

Boyd was panicked, desperately tugging at his arm that was cuffed to a table leg. It was too tight, and he could feel the pins and needles beginning to form, as it cut into his circulation.

"What do you want from me?" Boyd cried. "My car? Money? Take what you want!" he pleaded. "I have a sick mother!"

Anton laughed loudly, and lit a cigar.

"Do I look like I need your chump change?" he questioned, blowing a puff of smoke into his face.

He leant back into his chair, and looked at him intently.

"I know who you are!" Boyd screamed, in a misguided attempt of unnerving him.

"Good, I wouldn't want any confusion," Anton said coldly.

Boyd tried to look at the other figures in the room, all of whom remained out of the light of a single bulb.

"I wouldn't worry about them...not really. I call the shots around here. Tell me Donovan, do you believe in destiny?"

Boyd stared at him.

"I asked you a question."

"We...we make our own destiny."

"Hmm, interesting. So if this theory of yours is true, then you have created this situation you are in. Your actions have 'destined' this little rendezvous."

"I...I don't know what you mean," he stammered.

"You see, Donovan, I'm old school, not like these young cats nowadays that think they know it all. Kinda like you...thinking that the know it all I mean. Believe it or not I come from an era where respect had to be earned, I've worked hard to get where I am."

"Fuck you!" Boyd spat out, finally finding the courage to stare at him. "You are not that stupid to kill a cop."

Anton laughed menacingly as he pulled his chair closer, so they were almost nose to nose and their eyes level, completely disregarding Boyd's outburst. "When we old-timers have a problem with somebody, we man up and tell them to their face, and address any issues we have. No drive by shootings, no masks and no games. Just straight to the point."

He watched Boyd as his leg bobbed up and down nervously.

"So I'll get straight to the point and tell you that I don't like you. But I'm in a giving mood today, so I'll give you some free advice. Stop snooping in things that don't concern you. Who I have lunch with or talk to is really none of your concern."

Boyd's face lit up in realisation.

"This is about McNally. I should have known!"

Anton nodded once, and two figures stepped from the darkness. One held him still, whilst the other and punched Boyd hard in the stomach, twice.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Donovan. You're not really getting my point are you? Speculating, is not keeping out of my business. Neither is talking about me."

Boyd gasped for breath, having the wind taken out of him. Just as he composed himself, he was punched again.

"Do you need me to explain the rules again?" he asked.

"Screw you Hill!" Boyd spat.

This time he felt the sharp sting as the back of a hand collided with his nose, causing it to gush with blood. The ground came rushing towards him as his head hit the table with a loud thump, and it began to throb as he tried to get his bearings.

All the while, Anton remained still, never once administering a single blow. There was a look in his eyes that filled Boyd with fear. Donovan Boyd was scared. He knew then that Anton Hill was merciless and could very well kill him. This was a losing battle.

"Do you need me to explain the rules again?" Anton repeated.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Good. And if you lay another finger on Andy or mention my name again, I'll come and show you what real pain is. But for now, I'll give you a little appetiser."

Anton's face was expressionless as he rose and nodded before he left the room.

Forty five minutes later, Donovan Boyd, was pushed from a moving vehicle outside the Emergency Room of St Mark's Hospital. He was bruised, bloodied and unconscious.

* * *

><p>"Are those the phone records for Romano?" Oliver asked Andy around a mouthful of fried noodles.<p>

"Yes," she responded, her head still bent over the papers in front of her. "And didn't your wife ever teach you to not speak with your mouth full?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, leafing through a folder in search of the phone records. Swallowing his food, he opened his mouth to prove it was now empty. "Happy now?"

"Oh, absolutely," she grinned at him, reaching over his work to snag a spring roll.

"You need to learn table manners," Jerry muttered from the other side of the room. "I'm this close to packing him off to military school."

"He'd probably lose a few kilos," Sam laughed. "Shaw, I bet you could benefit from that."

"Wouldn't we all?" Oliver responded, abandoning the search for the phone records in place of spring rolls. "And by the way, I'm too old for miltary school," he said between mouthfuls.

"You're just here for the food aren't you?" Traci teased.

"You know me too well," Oliver laughed as he snagged a second spring roll, finishing it in two large bites.

A comfortable silence fell as the five poured over the evidence, trying to find the missing pieces and common grounds that were eluding them for the moment.

Sam squeezed Andy's hand, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"These are our friends Andy. No one is judging you and it was right that you told them who he is," he whispered.

Andy nodded, still feeling embarrassed, but they had sworn her to secrecy and promised her secret would stay between the five of them.

"You may want to see of this number appears on his call log," she said handing over a crumpled piece of paper to Jerry.

"Whose number is it?"

"Anton Hill's cell phone."

Jerry's looked on in amazement.

"Are you telling me who had Hill's number this whole time, and you didn't think to say?"

"Yes, Jerry I had my uncle's number, and no I didn't think to say," Andy bit back defensively.

Sam placed his hand on her thigh and massaged her gently. Andy blinked away any tears and continued to go through the piles of papers in front of her.

"So we can look at Hill's phone records as well, right?" Traci added, handing Andy a bottle of water.

"Yes, we just might get something out of this and give Mrs Carlucci some closure," Jerry said.

"It seems to me, it doesn't matter what we get Hill for, as long as we get him for something," Oliver reasoned, waving his chop sticks around as he spoke.

Andy frowned at his words, and took a sip of water. She smiled at Traci gratefully.

"Andy?" Oliver said kindly, "I know I'm a bit inept in my choice of words, but you know we have to do this? This is our jobs and what we are paid to do. We're here to protect and serve."

"I know," she said, letting out a small breath. "It's the right thing to do..."

"And Hill chose to do these bad things, no one made him," Oliver stressed.

"You're right Oliver," she sighed. "You're always right."

"Well of course I'm right," he said cheerily, "that's why you need me on the team."

Andy rolled her eyes, and threw a prawn cracker at him. Oliver not liking to waste food picked it off his shirt and ate it.

"Of course Oliver," she said sarcastically. "I couldn't have put it better myself."

"Probably not," he agreed as he fished out the last shrimp from the container, and ate it happily.

"Anything else Oliver?" Jerry asked.

"Burgers," Oliver replied.

"What?" everyone said in unison.

"Burgers. I'll take it we'll be doing this again tomorrow night, and as a token of the team's appreciation of my talent and wisdom, I want burgers."

"But with no pickles," Traci laughed.

"You're smart Nash, you can come back tomorrow too."

The five shook their heads, and the mood was considerably lighter. Sam leant closer to Andy, and without looking up, continued looking through the evidence.

"Thanks for being here, Sam," she whispered.

"You're welcome Andy. I'm here as long as you need me," he said, and opened a new file.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Please forgive any typos. It is very, very early in the morning for me and I am tired. I suspect I will be drinking lots of coffee today... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: A Quiet Storm.<strong>

"You're quiet sweetheart," Sam commented as they drove home in silence.

Shrugging, Andy turned away from Sam, lost in thought as she stared through the truck window.

"I'm just tired," she clarified, and patted his knee without looking.

Sam simply nodded and did not press any further. He eyed her closely, a look of equal parts confusion and concern. Andy needed to talk that much he was sure of, but in order for that to happen, she needed to feel safe and secure. She'd hardly eaten anything all day, and seemed a little lost, which didn't come as any real surprise given the days events. The only consolation right now was the fact that she was there by his side, and was not under any duress to do so.

Andy watched Sam through hooded eyes, knowing that her silence had unsettled him. She had come a long way since choosing to be with him, but still could not change the need to self-preserve. It was something that came from deep within her. She wanted to warn him. She wanted to tell him she was not that strong, and that she already needed him far too much. That she will never survive the inevitable fallout, if she really tells him what is on her mind.

They arrived outside the house, and Andy placed one hand on the door handle before the truck had even come to a complete stop.

"I want to see my dad next week," she announced suddenly, which was not as random as it may have sounded.

"Tommy?" Sam queried, as his foot hit the brakes.

"Who else?" she said a little annoyed.

Sam did not respond, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Do you want me to give you a ride? It would be nice to see him too, if you don't mind the company."

Andy sighed deeply, focussing her gaze on the door handle. God, she was tired and she was acting like a bitch. She needed to sleep.

"Or I could just give you a ride," he suggested, sensing her hesitation.

"Yeah, yeah that would be good, dad would love to see you."

Sam stretched out and rubbed the back of her neck, and Andy dropped her head forwards, releasing a soft groan.

"I'm not the best company right now, I'm sorry," she said softly.

"I know," was all he said, before parking the truck.

* * *

><p>Used to being watched, talked about and disliked, Anton Hill wasn't unnerved by much. Natural instinct and brute force protected him from much of the dark side he was confronted with on a daily basis. Whilst many before him, and those wanting to take his place had faltered at such a prospect, he only grew stronger because of it. The love and support of his small network of friends and family helped too.<p>

That was until Andy.

She had got under his skin in a way nobody else could, and as much as he understood and respected her decision to stay away, he couldn't accept it. He sat back and pulled out the photo album, staring at the photos for what seemed like the millionth time in only a matter of days. Anton was a lot of things, which many would argue were not all nice, but he was a man of his word. He promised Maurice he would keep her safe and that's what he did. That detective deserved everything he got, and Anton had done a lot worse for a lot less over the years, so he was lucky this time. No one hurts a Hill without regretting it.

Closing the album one last time for the evening, Anton stood and made his way to find his wife.

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.<p>

"Okay, I guess," Andy replied, as she began to get undressed.

She removed her blouse, which caused Sam to frown when he saw the deep purple bruises on her upper arms that looked like Boyd's hand prints.

"I'm fine Sam," Andy stressed, before she slipped on a clean t-shirt and climbed into bed.

She knew that it would be a long, tough day tomorrow, and her body was exhausted after working her first full shift in weeks. Andy realised, as she glanced at the bedside clock, that 'tomorrow' was already here. Their shift started in six hours and they hadn't even filed any reports yet from earlier, as they were eager to meet with the others and discuss Hill. She wasn't that eager, and would have preferred to do the paperwork instead, but had kept that to herself. The guilt she felt in giving away Anton's cell phone number was insurmountable to anything she has felt in a very long time. Andy still felt she was betraying her uncle, and as soon as she handed Jerry the piece of paper, she instantly wished she could turn back time. Andy closed her eyes, and tried to suspend the activities that was racing in her head which was helped when Sam switched off the light and lay next to her.

"Don't over-think it McNally," Sam instructed as he moved closer to her form.

"In other words you want me just to forget it all and put it all behind me," she replied.

"It would make things a lot easier on yourself, if you tried. You're tired and it's effecting your mood."

Sam was right. Her exhaustion has sapped her of all her energy and any emergency reserves.

"What if I don't want to forget?" Andy questioned. She didn't want to go down that line of conversation, but his words touched a nerve.

Andy felt his body shift, but he did not comment, so she continued to speak.

"For the first time in a long time my early childhood memories are so strong, and their good memories, really good. I had a really happy first five years of my life, and the two people that were part of that were involved in drugs. I can't pretend it didn't happen or mean anything, Sam." She looked at him, her eyes watched his silhouette in the dark. "So don't ask me to."

"I'm not asking you to forget," he whispered, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "But this can't carry on. Something has to give. It's not fair on you or me."

"I know," Andy said quietly, as she nodded against his chest. "I know. But just don't ask me to forget." There was a fragility in her voice that made him sad, and he pulled her just that little bit closer.

Andy lay with her head on Sam's chest, as he combed his fingers through her hair, and continued to do so until he felt her body relax. He turned his head slightly, and allowed his lips to brush across her forehead, that still bore the scar of her battle.

Sam had to say it, just in case the morning erased her memories of the way he'd cared and protected her today.

He had to say it, just in case she thought he had changed his mind about her.

He had to say it in case she had changed her mind about him.

"I love you, Andy."

Her arms tightened around his body; the only indication she gave of having heard him. There was more that could have been said, but sometimes the silence between them said it all.

She fell asleep a few minutes later and Sam stayed awake a while longer as he listened to her breathe and felt her heartbeat against his chest, before he closed his eyes as well and gave into his own exhaustion.

* * *

><p>"What have you done Anton?" Priscilla asked. "In fact, don't tell me, I don't think I want to know."<p>

"What makes you think I've done something," Anton said casually, as he entered the kitchen.

"How long have we been married?"

"Too long."

Priscilla didn't respond to his sarcasm, so Anton knew he was in the dog house. He was distracted over dinner and didn't remember much of the conversation they were having. Well, the conversation she was having with herself, as it turned out to be pretty one-sided. Coupled with the fact that he ate very little, which was a mortal sin in his wife's eyes, he decided maybe he should keep things light. He didn't think about the questions that are going to start coming, and simply watched Priscilla. She smiled tightly at his gaze as she pottered around the kitchen, leaving him to squirm by her silence.

Anton knew he was a hothead. He always had been. But Maurice was the one that kept things under control, which made them the perfect partnership. Somehow that role had now become Priscilla's by default. For the last twenty five years he'd spent years flying off the handle and making judgement calls with no judgement whatsoever. She'd always been his voice of reason and his obstacle to losing complete control at any given moment. He counted on her to make sound decisions when he couldn't. Unfortunately, he hadn't been thinking when he'd ordered the retribution to that vile detective, although it was probable the outcome would have been the same. How could he admit it, to her of all people what he had sanctioned tonight? That the sole factor in his decision was a promise made years ago. In the sanctuary of his den, his decisions made sense and were justified. Priscilla, knew all his worst faults but he still feared her disappointment. Priscilla could bring remorse and regret from him like no one else. His kids would still love him, despite his fuck-ups. They had known nothing but normalcy most of their lives. But to admit his failings to her, to be that man in her eyes, the fear freezes him. So he doesn't speak.

Priscilla huffed, and returned to the dishes she was washing. She didn't want to know what stunt he had pulled.

"What did you do?" she asked eventually.

"I didn't do anything, darling."

Anton wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck, which normally pacified her. "You remember where all the paperwork is and the numbers of all my contacts don't you? I can go over how to decipher the codes later."

"What's this about Anton?"

"Nothing, nothing, Cilla," he muttered, kissing her a second time.

"Can I tell you the things I've learnt about you over the years?" she asked, stepping away from his embrace.

Anton arched an eyebrow questionably.

"Whenever things look hot or you've done something wrong, you start mentioning contingency plans. And you call me Cilla."

_She was right._

"So you remember where you need to go and what you need to do, if I'm no longer around?"

Priscilla did not answer.

"Dammit Priscilla answer me!"

"Yes. You've drummed it into my head since...oh I don't know...forever!"

"It's important that's why."

She swung around to face her husband, and ran a thumb across his cheek as she stared at him intently.

"What have you done?" she asked nervously.

"Not a thing. Besides we keep such talk away from the family home. Your words not mine," he replied seriously.

She knew he was using her words against her. They say ignorance is bliss, but sometimes it's simply a way of protecting yourself and those you love.

"Hurry up and come to bed," was his final thoughts, having made his point.

Priscilla knew there was no point in pursuing the conversation any further, as his retreating form signified the discussion was over.

* * *

><p>Frank did not seem particularly surprised to see her first thing in the morning. "Officer McNally," he said simply. "Come on in."<p>

Andy obeyed, and closed the door softly behind her. "Sir."

"Have a seat," he offered, and nodded to one of the chairs across from his desk.

Andy sat down, resisting the urge to sink back into its padded back and sleep.

"First things first," Frank said all businesslike, and when Andy glanced at him he smiled. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "You weren't at parade yesterday."

"Much better sir."

"And you're happy resuming normal duties?"

In spite of herself she laughed. "Most definitely. No offence sir, but I never want to do desk duty again," Andy admitted.

"None taken." Frank watched her face for a moment before he continued. "Keep your head above water and I won't be forced to put you on desk duty, but the minute you want to, just ask. Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Andy nodded.

"I heard about what happened yesterday."

"What are you referring to?" she asked vaguely.

"The altercation between yourself, Swarek and Boyd."

"That...oh that was nothing."

"Swarek punched him, that doesn't sound like nothing to me."

"He was just defending me," Andy protested.

"From what?"

"I'm not completely sure," she lied.

"Well, I'd prefer that Swarek used words, instead of his fists," he said gravely.

"He was provoked. Sir."

"Undoubtedly." Frank shuffled the papers on his desk. "Why don't you tell me what happened yesterday?"

"It's hard to say really... I thought Detective Boyd would have told you, or Superintendent Peck."

"This has nothing to do with Superintendent Peck, I'm the staff sergeant in charge. Don't worry I will be speaking to Boyd once I can locate him and Swarek." He sighed warily. "Do I need to make this official."

"No sir."

"Okay, you are dismissed."

Frank dialled Boyd's number for the fifth time that morning, only to be greeted with an answer phone. He silently cursed to himself, but did not leave a message and disconnected the call. He suspected Boyd was avoiding him, and returned to his paperwork for a short while before the start of parade.

* * *

><p>Anton jolted awake at 5am the following morning, his heart was racing, and his body was covered in sweat. He steadied his breathing and swung his legs over the side of the bed before he flipped on the night stand lamp. He turned to watch Priscilla who mumbled and went back to sleep. Anton was more than use to these nightmares, but it had been a long time since they had occurred. Always the same scene played out; his best friend lying in a pool of blood, the police sirens and him running. After all these years he never did work out where he was running to, and always woke up before he reached his final destination. He didn't even try going back to sleep any more. Instead, he threw on a dressing gown over his pyjamas and made his way downstairs to the kitchen.<p>

He started the coffee pot and lit a cigar as he waited for the water to boil. He slumped against the counter, as he fingered the small card in his pocket.

_Therapy._

Wayne had given him the business card for Doctor Heidi Van de Broek, a specialist in traumatic bereavement. Wayne said she was Dutch, as if somehow that made all the difference.

_What if it did?_

Anton didn't need therapy. He had Priscilla to talk to, although he never spoke to her about such things. He spoke to no one about such things.

_Doctor Heidi Van de Broek. _

Therapy couldn't change history, what he really needed was a time travelling machine, so he could go back in time and make things right. If she could do that then he'd give her every last cent he possessed.

He'd been given the card some time back, but today for the first time he actually looked at it.

_Therapy._

Anton scoffed and put the cigar to the corner of the card, and watched as it began to blacken and singe. He panicked suddenly, and pulled the cigar away, and stubbed the card with the ball of his palm. He put the card back in his pocket, and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he stirred in some sugar a fleeting glance through the window showed that it had begun to snow.

Anton opened the back door and looked out across the backyard; a rush of snowflakes swirling in the air and settled around his feet. Instead of retreating inside to the warmth he stepped out further as his slippers sunk into the ready settled snow. It was freezing, and he was not appropriately dressed but Anton did not care. The chilled air filled his lungs, and as he took another pull on his cigar, he felt as if he was in the middle of something sacred.

_"You know there's still time to come with me, I can book an extra plane ticket," Maurice commented casually._

_"What the hell am I gonna do in Vancouver?" Anton questioned. "No one knows me there, I'd have to muscle in on someone's else's territory, and I'm not up for a turf war."_

_Anton poured Maurice a glass of red wine, a silent affirmation of his best friends departure. One hundred bucks it cost him for two bottles, of what was supposedly a high quality French wine if he were to believe the snotty sales assistant that sold it to him. By the dreamy look of pleasure on Maurice's face when he first took a sip, it was money well spent. Never one to show too much emotion, Anton hoped Maurice knew this was his way of saying he would miss him and the kid without actually having to say it. He'd brought the kid a present too, but wanted to give it to her at the airport. It was a set of story books with audio cassettes. It was a little bit advanced for her age, but she was smart and was already reading. Maurice had taught her. He figured she could read the books as she listened to the the tapes. Which reminded him to buy her a walkman. In pink, of course._

_"We could open a restaurant, or something. I don't know, but you don't want to do this shit forever." His accent made it sound like 'sheet' and Anton smiled to himself._

_"Why not?" Anton asked defiantly._

_"Because it's not a life for children, and Priscilla is expecting."_

_"I said she might be expecting," Anton corrected, cutting a wedge of Brie before putting it on a piece of crusty bread. He took a hearty bite before continuing. "She's only a few days late, it may just be a false alarm."_

_"Either way there will be kids someday. Vancouver is a great place to raise a family."_

_"So is Toronto."_

_"Yeah, it is. I suppose there's too many memories here for me, and I should have left months ago...So if she is pregnant?"_

_"I promise, you'll be the first to know. You're the godfather anyway."_

_"Seriously?" Maurice smiled._

_"Of course man, that goes without saying. But you'll have to come back to Toronto for the christening; all her family are from around here."_

_"And you'll consider moving to Vancouver? With Priscilla?"_

_"If I say yes, will you shut up?"_

_"Oui."_

_"Okay, I'll consider it . Happy?"_

_"Very."_

"_So let's get this big deal out of the way first, and make some serious money. In less than forty eight hours, we'll be the two happiest men in Canada."_

"_And you're still able to drive us to the airport?"_

"_Yes. Once we seal the deal, I'll drive you both straight there in plenty of time. Stop worrying."_

_Maurice raised his glass, and cleared his throat._

"_To new beginnings," he smiled, as his brown eyes twinkled happily._

"_To new beginnings," Anton repeated, as he raised his glass also._

Anton was snapped out of his thoughts, by Priscilla's presence.

"Did I wake you?" he whispered, frightened that the warble in his voice would let him down.

"No, but the bed was empty for a while." She pulled her robe around her tighter, as she hovered in the doorway, not quite brave enough to go any further out into the cold.

"It's freezing Anton, you'll catch your death. How long have you been out here?"

"I'm okay. There's coffee in the pot if you want it," he said tipping his head towards the kitchen.

"Was it another bad dream?" she asked knowingly.

"Just couldn't sleep," he sighed. "But yeah, I had the dream."

She dusted the snow from the concrete steps as best as she could with a broom and took a seat, yelping as the cold permeated her thin robe. She instantly started shivering, but gestured for Anton to join her.

"Can you remember when you didn't dream?" she asked pensively. "When we lived hand to mouth, but were so carefree?"

Anton stopped halfway on his journey towards Priscilla and closed his eyes. He took a few seconds to answer, "I haven't known anything different in a long time, Priscilla. I suppose these dreams will always be an important part of who I am."

"Don't you? I remember a time when all that was important was family."

"It still is," he admitted, taking a seat next to her.

"Really? What about the drugs and hurting people who get in your way? I may not talk about it but I know."

"You can't have it both ways, Priscilla. It's the drugs that have given you this lifestyle," he rationalised.

"What lifestyle Anton? We have so much money squirrelled away that we don't know what to do with it! The kids don't really need it because they've never seen it. There's only Tina to get through University, they're all self-sufficient."

"We both agreed, we wanted them to have choices, like we didn't have when we were growing up."

"And I still believe that. But we live a simple life, I haven't changed my car in seven years and it was second hand when we purchased it, and Monday nights dinner is always casserole made from leftover cuts of meat from Sunday lunch."

"It's called economising. It's bad to waste food," Anton smiled.

"I'm not complaining, in fact I like it. It's a Hill tradition, and I couldn't be happier! The bills are paid each month, we go on vacation once a year and I have my family. My life is better than I imagined a waitress like me would ever experience."

"So what are you saying?"

"Let's leave it behind. You don't need to do this any more. God knows it isn't for the money. This has broken you, leave it for some other wannabe. We could have left this years ago, the restaurant makes enough money."

Anton looked at her slightly alarmed by her words.

"Is that such a terrible idea?"

"Well it's hardly original," he quipped.

"Don't do that Anton. Don't dismiss what I am saying by being sarcastic, when I'm being serious."

Priscilla moved down one step beneath him and spoke more calmly. She placed his hands in her own as she tried to warm them both.

"Drugs has ruined you and tainted me. It caused your best friend's death and made you lose your niece. It has probably killed Bella too."

"We don't know that for sure," Anton mumbled half-heartedly, although he'd mentally buried his sister years ago.

"No we don't. But even if she is still alive it made her manipulate you and poor Maurice, before turning her back on Andy and then Christopher."

Her final thoughts seemed to have struck a cord with him, and Anton wondered just how much of his life would have altered if he had chosen a different path or whether it was really all down to destiny.

"Walk away, please. It's not hard. I'll be with you every step of the way," Priscila urged.

Anton considered her words for a moment and nodded slowly. Priscilla stared at him, trying to decode what he was agreeing too, or if he was agreeing to anything at all.

"Simple is as simple as you make it, right?"

"Where did you get that from? A fortune cookie?" she asked as her brows furrowed.

"Just something somebody told me once," he said softly.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, huddling closer.

"You know, I never forced you to stay with me."

"You'd be lost without me, Anton Hill," she teased. "Priscilla Beaumont had her pick of potential suitors!"

"Yeah, you're right," he said calmly. "But you chose me," Anton boasted, puffing his chest out with male pride.

"Yes, Anton I chose you. For better or worse."

Priscilla tipped her chin up and kissed his cheek. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong for thinking that she had a choice, that she had a choice about whether or not she could or would love him. It wasn't an option, it wasn't a choice, it was what it was. But she decided against boosting his already over inflated ego.

"Come back inside. You'll make yourself ill," she warned, as she stood.

"In a while," he said and smacked her bottom playfully.

Priscilla gave her husband one last look, and hurried back inside the house. He stayed outside, in what turned out to be two hours longer and several cigars later. It had stopped snowing, and he was just left with the cold and his thoughts.

Anton knew it was time for a change, but he didn't know how. This life was all he had ever known.

* * *

><p>The confusing fog of sleep hadn't quite left Boyd when consciousness pulled his eyes open. He saw a pair of caring brown eyes holding his, no anger and just a warm smile.<p>

"Welcome back!" the young nurse smiled brightly, as she changed his IV drip. "You've been asleep forever. Did you know you snore?" she giggled.

Boyd blinked several times, and listened to the sounds of the equipment buzzing and humming in their own way, which let him know he was still very much alive. He really thought he would never live to see another day, and almost wished for it when the force of a heavy boot kicked his stomach for the umpteenth time, with a skilled precision. They were relentless, determined and inflicted their torture in total silence.

"You're a cop right? I've seen you around. I gave a suspect of yours stitches a few weeks back. Big guy, had a snake tattoo on his neck," the nurse said, only stopping momentarily for air.

She fluffed his pillows and continued talking. "I never forget a face, which is a good thing as there was no identification on you. But I told them 'he's a cop, I bet my nursing licence on it!' Were you mugged? Silly question, you must have been. I just don't know what the world is coming to, when decent law abiding folk can't just get on with their daily lives. Anyway, my girlfriend is a nurse here too, she's dating a detective. She asked him to come in to see if he recognised you, but he hasn't arrived yet, and now you've woken up..."

Boyd stared at her, still dazed from his beating, pain killers and the incessant gibberish that was flowing from the nurse's mouth. He didn't give a cutting remark that he was renowned for, he simply listened, savouring it for what it was worth. He was alive. Donovan Boyd had sat with the devil and lived to tell the tale. Metaphorically speaking.

Somehow he knew Hill would be true to his word, rumour had it that small time drug dealer had muscled in on his business, and Hill had said he would be dead by the end of the week if he didn't stop. He had fled the country in panic, and was found floating face down in the bath of his holiday home in Belize, with a bullet in his head and a bag of cocaine stuffed in his mouth. Guns and Gangs were informed about it as the victim was a Toronto national, but had no part in the investigation. If Boyd pointed the finger it would be no stretch of the imagination that he would have to enter witness protection or flee the country to some far flung corner of the globe in order to survive.

He would not be recounting the nights events to anyone.

* * *

><p>"So what we got?" Oliver asked, as he munched into his third slice of pizza.<p>

"Nothing. No calls were made or received from Hill's cell phone," explained Jerry.

"And Romano?"

"Several calls to his wife, one to his place of work and three calls to Rita Carlucci."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"So Romano never called Hill, and Hill never called Romano?"

"No."

"So maybe, they don't know one another," Oliver concluded.

"Andy?" Jerry beckoned.

"Jerry, I don't know anything other than what I already told you."

"Well that number you gave me, obviously wasn't his cell phone, or at least not one that he uses."

Andy was upset at that detail, and quite possibly irrationally upset at that. She was insulted that Anton didn't trust her enough to give out his real number. Did he not trust her all along? What did that say about his feelings towards her? Why wasn't she worthy of the number? It was bothering her, but she was unsure whether it was the case, Anton, both or something entirely different.

"So much for family," Andy muttered to herself.

"McNally?" Jerry prompted.

"What Jerry!" she snapped, causing the others to look at her in amazement.

"Tell me again," he said calmly, showing no indication of being flustered by her outburst.

"Hill said he wanted Carlucci to keep an eye on me because he wanted to meet me..."

"And?"

"And he never told Carlucci to hurt me."

"Did he mention Tony getting shot?"

"No, and I never asked."

Jerry paced the room, unable to make sense of anything, and by the time he reached his desk, his phone was buzzing in its holder. "Barber."

He placed a finger on his lips, for the others to be be quiet, as he listened to the person on the other end of the call.

"Where? The hospital? How bad? I'll be there in twenty."

He spoke for another minute before ending the call and slipping on his coat.

"Is everything alright?" Traci asked, straightening up in her seat.

"It's Boyd, he's been mugged. Apparently they beat him badly."

Sam snorted in response, and folded his arms across his chest. Andy's eyelids were growing heavy, and yawned loudly. Oliver continued eating. "Too bad," he said in between mouthfuls.

"Come on guys, show him a bit of love!" Jerry exclaimed, shocked at their lack of compassion.

"So we're done for the night?" Oliver checked, standing and picking up the box of Pizza.

Traci smirked, and shrugged non-committally when Jerry threw a look in her direction.

"Yes, I think we should head home for the night," she answered. "Come on baby," she said dragging Jerry by the arm, "I'll walk with you to your car."

* * *

><p>Detective Rollings and Jerry shook hands. The two men nodded in acknowledgement before turning their attention back to Boyd, from where they stood outside of his room.<p>

"We called you in to assist. I know you guys at 15 work closely with him. Hey is Swarek still there?" the detective asked.

"Sammy? Yeah, he's still there."

"Man, I haven't seen him in ages. Tell him Rollings sends his regards."

Jerry nodded, and shifted the focus back to the matter at hand.

"So what you got?" Jerry asked, as he stared at Boyd once more.

"He was found unconscious outside the entrance of the hospital. No ID, and was badly beaten. A few broken ribs, a broken nose and a fracture of the right orbit."

Jerry winced at the description of injuries.

"One of the nurses recognised him and called me."

"What does he say happened?"

"Not a lot, and he's quite rude about it."

"That's not really unusual, if I'm being honest. Let me see if he will talk."

Rollings entered the room once more, closely followed by Jerry.

"Hey man," Jerry said softly.

Boyd put his head in his hands and groaned. "Why are you here?" he asked, almost angrily. "I didn't ask you to call anybody," he said looking at Rollings.

"Jeez!" Rollings said softly. "I was trying to help."

"Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you?" asked Jerry.

"No," Boyd whined, shaking his head. "I've said already. I don't remember what happened."

"Do you think it was a mugging? You had no ID. They took your wallet."

Boyd swallowed thickly, almost forgetting that fact.

"Your wallet..." Jerry repeated, "did they take it?"

"Yeah...yeah I guess they did."

"So there was more than one? Where did it happen?"

Boyd remained silent.

"Did they say anything? You're still wearing your ring. Why just take your wallet? Do you think it was personal?"

"Jerry." He feels the anger rising in Boyd's voice, no matter how hard he tries to stifle it. "Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Whatever you want, buddy. I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help Jerry, and I'm just not in the mood to fight with you too."

"I wasn't aware we were fighting."

"Like I said, I don't remember anything. Can we just leave it at that."

"Okay, Donnie if that's what you want," Jerry relents, blowing out a frustrated breath.

"Yes, that's what I want."

* * *

><p>A few more days go by. A few more days of very few leads, no real conclusions; and frustrating dead ends. After two more weeks of trying to find a connection to their theories, the group admit defeat and disband.<p>

"Should we surrender?" Jerry suggested.

The group looked to one another and nodded in agreement. There was nothing they could find to definitively connect Hill to Carlucci's death, or any other real crime for that matter. Hill was smart, and had an elaborate way of working that was hard to pick apart and make any real sense of. So the Carlucci death was filed away, not quite a cold case and still an open investigation that remained dormant.

Jerry was the one to break the news to Rita Carlucci. She was devastated.

Things go back to normal, and they don't talk about it. Andy doesn't admit to anyone but herself that she was silently relieved by the outcome, but she had yet to understand her reasons why.

It seemed like a long winter to Andy, or maybe its was just that things were a long time coming. Everyday felt like one grey day after another, and the cold never seemed to leave her bones, or the ache that niggled her insides. If she kept busy enough, and spent time with her friends and Sam, the ache is almost negligible. But it was always there.

It had been another hectic day, and both Sam and Andy were gasping for a steaming cup coffee before they attempted to complete a mound of paperwork. Andy's hand reached over Sam's shoulder, and dropped a fresh brew of coffee in front of him before she quickly brushed her hand past his back muscles. His eyes followed her hips as she walked away and sat across from him at an empty desk.

Sam had been doing a lot of that lately. Watching her, that is. Her gentle sway was almost hypnotic and he wondered what held his attention before she came along.

He touches her more often nowadays too. Neither pull back when their bodies inadvertently brush or when they are pressed against each other in narrow passages. Sam has seen Luke stare at times when they sit together in parade, watching them when he thinks they are unaware and he sees the look of disbelief in Luke's eyes that Andy had chosen to be with him. The whole division now knows they are together, and neither seem to care.

Sam discreetly watched Andy as she sat at her desk. She scanned her eyes back and forth over the notes in front of her, and gently massaged her temples. It was a particularly rough week, which was made harder that day by giving a death notice to a college student, Stephanie McDowell, informing her that her younger brother had died of a drug overdose. Telling a family member their loved ones were deceased was always hard, and there isn't a text book way to do it. Andy was composed as she broke the news, but when Stephanie lost control, Andy had tried her best to comfort her. Sam saw Andy's eyes water when she heard that he was the only family the young girl had, having lost their parents a few years earlier in a motor vehicle accident. She was quiet the entire journey back to the barn.

It was obvious to him that she wasn't actually reading anything, but was merely lost in thought. Sam stood from his chair, rounded the desk and rested his palms on Andy's desk.

"What are you thinking about, Andy?" he whispered into her ear.

Andy jumped a little at the intrusion. She hadn't noticed him move.

"Nothing," she said out aloud, although "Christopher," is what she really said inside.

If she said it with enough conviction, she almost believed it.

Andy felt that familiar ache again, from just thinking about Christopher, and she sighed softly. She knew Sam was able to read her, even better than Tommy which at times was more of a curse than a blessing. He didn't say anything and just watched her with his wise eyes, and leans against the desk so he facing her.

"I haven't been sleeping well," she admitted.

"I know. You forget I sleep next to you," Sam chuckled softly.

"I'm just restless, and I..." she was too embarrassed to say what else.

"And what?"

"My left palm keeps itching."

Sam stared in total confusion.

"Your left palm is itching," he repeated slowly.

"My granny used to say it meant bad luck was coming your way."

Sam didn't know why it surprised him, he had long concluded that the woman he was hopelessly in love with was not just beautiful, proud and courageous, but totally unique with her funny sayings and beliefs. He didn't bother to question her logic, just smiled and grabbed her right palm.

"What are you doing?" Andy laughed as Sam scraped his nails on her palm.

"Counter balancing the bad luck."

"What?"

"I'm itching your right hand to confuse the universe, sort of like a Feng Shui."

"You're an idiot!" Andy said laughing, as she threw caution to the wind and hugged him.

"Yeah well," Sam shrugged, enjoying the warmth of her embrace.

There are times Andy wished she hadn't given Sam so much of herself.

There are times when she is glad she had given herself to him. Times like now, and she kisses him on the corner of his mouth.

"Andy," he warned low and soft.

He tugged her elbow gently, to remind her that they were at work. Andy pulled back creating a much needed distance and looked at him with heat in her eyes.

"Don't look at me that way, McNally," Sam rumbled.

She simply laughed, turned and went back to completing her paperwork.

Oliver rested his chin in his hand and smiled. He was a hopeless romantic deep down, and couldn't be happier for the two. He couldn't help but think that he just might get to wear his suit again, in the not too distant future. Although, it may need taking out a few inches, or possibly he might need a new suit altogether.

* * *

><p>Andy lay in the dark, staring vacantly at the ceiling, as Sam snores softly beside her. She needed to sleep, but there were things on her mind, things she had trouble expressing. So here was her dilemma. Well...there were a few really.<p>

She didn't know how to live her life without Sam in it.

She didn't know how to stop the ache since discovering Anton, but more importantly Christopher.

She didn't know how to exist comfortably without loving them both, without having them both.

She doesn't want to be forced to choose, although if it came down to it, Sam would win.

She didn't know how to make Sam understand this without upsetting him.

Groaning, she repositioned her body slightly and pulled her arms out from underneath the blankets. She lay on her right side, and turned onto her left side, before she rolled onto her back and put her arms back under the blankets.

"Andy," Sam whispered sharply.

She let her head fall to the side to face him. "Sorry," she said softly.

He shifts to his right side and faces her. "What's wrong?"

"I can't get comfortable. This bed is too soft," she huffed.

Andy knows how ridiculous that sounds, as she has been sleeping in his bed for weeks quite happily; yet she continues with her irrational tirade. She's just so tired of it all. Tired of thinking about it, tired of the constant reminders of her choices. She's just so tired and wants a good night sleep free from her irrational fears and insecurities.

"Go back to sleep Sam, I'm fine."

After several more minutes of her tossing and turning, Sam had enough. "Okay," he began in a measured tone, "You've been restless for a while now, so let's talk about it. Whatever bothering you, we'll try and find a solution. We'll work it out."

"I'm fine, Sam. Really."

"Andy," Sam urged. "Talk to me."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose.

"What happened to that girl, Sam…" She sighed and rubbed her sore eyes."It affected me." She looked up at the ceiling. "A lot."

He transferred his weight and took a minute before responding. "I shouldn't have made you do the death notification."

She interrupted him, "Sam. No. I wanted to. It's just…" she focused on his tattoo. "It… that girl. God. It was her little brother…" She swallowed the lump in her throat and asked weakly, "Is that bad that I'm so upset? It's not like I'm a rookie any more… It's pathetic."

"I think the fact that you still can feel something after doing this job a while is a good thing. It's when you stop feeling that you should worry. Because then I'll have to re-name you Gail."

"Hmmph. You call me Gail, and I'll tell Dov where you go to the gym so he can join too," she teased.

"Ouch McNally. Now you are just being mean."

Andy's hand tightened around his bicep, tracing her thumb over his tattoo, she wanted to ask him about it. When did he get it done and what was the meaning of the letters, but there was something else she needed to say that was more pressing. If she didn't say it, she feared she may never sleep properly again.

"I want to see my brother, I want to know him," she said as she drew out a long breath.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Sam asked seriously.

"A while. But I decided for sure about twenty minutes ago."

"Oh, good, I was afraid you were rushing into something," he said hoarsely.

Andy was unable to read his tone. Was it sarcasm or concern?

"Andy, I don't understand. Help me out here... where is this coming from?"

"From me."

"Andy? Look at me," Sam pressed gently. "Talk to me."

Andy drew in a deep breath and began to talk. "That case. Stephanie McDowell – there was something about her that... unsettled me. Her open grief for her brother, and the fact she was now all alone. Christopher is my little brother and I should meet him before it's too late. What if he dies tomorrow? Me not acknowledging him makes me no better than Sophia. The thought of not knowing him stresses me more than knowing him."

She pressed her lips against his shoulder.

"I don't know when, and it won't be tomorrow or any time soon. For now I want to go back and see the counsellor."

"Kooky Christine?"

Andy read his tone easily that time, and knew he was teasing. She smiled.

"Yes Christine."

"And?"

"Just to talk it through. And one day, I'll meet him. But I'm not ready yet, and I don't think I will for a very long time. Do you think you can accept that?"

Sam's immediate response was to become overprotective. But they loved each other, and had proven it to one another over the last couple of months. He felt secure with their relationship, and Andy had opened up to him in a way she had never done before. He was uncomfortable with what she wanted to do, and was sure it would end in tears. Sam gathered all the strength he possessed and offered his support.

"Then make it happen, Andy. Go be a big sister. Sarah and I are close, so I know how great that bond can be. I will always be here. Your chance at this… won't always."

"Do you really mean that?"

"If meeting your brother, makes you half as happy as you make me then you have my support. How ever fast or slow you choose to take it..."

"Definitely slow," she interrupted. "Very slow."

"Well however long. Just be careful, and keep focussed."

Andy threw her arms around his neck, and did not let go.

They remained silent, and very soon they were both lulled back asleep. Andy slept right through until the following day.

* * *

><p>To Andy's surprise, the next several weeks went by without much fanfare. Work remained unchanged. Her and Sam were living together amicably, she had managed to work a considerable amount of overtime and had continued to pay for Tommy's treatment. Andy was exhausted, but content with her life. She spent time with her friends and she never saw Boyd who since his mugging, had given the 15 division a wide berth. She saw her counsellor regularly, and they had struck up a good relationship now that she had let her guard down. Anton had kept his promise and stayed away, she finally felt able to breathe.<p>

It was about two weeks later when she received the telephone call, and it was Priscilla who gave her the news. She sounded distraught, and said although she knew Andy wasn't interested, she just wanted her to know. Andy closed her eyes and stiffened as she processed Priscilla's harrowing words. Anton was in hospital. It was Pneumonia, and his condition was critical. Andy kept the conversation brief, primarily because she was not alone and because she was at a loss for what to say. She kept her eyes focussed on the potted plant that sat on the window ledge throughout. It wasn't until a few hours later, and having no one to talk to, did the reality of the situation finally sink in. Being paired with Gail was working on her last nerve and after one too many bitchy comments, she excused herself to the female locker room and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Andy did not know how long she was gone, but by the time she had calmed down, splashed cold water on her face and made her way back to the booking desk, Gail was staring at her curiously.

Andy was working a double shift that day, and Sam had long since left for the evening, heading to the penny with Oliver. As she sat manning a quiet desk, it gave her time to think. Pneumonia.

It took her two hours to grapple with the concept of moving and going to see him, from her spot across the road from the hospital. She slipped inside his room when she thought he was alone, and held her breath as he lay motionless, attached to a multitude of wires.

She only planned to stay a minute or two, but he was awake. Anton's blue eyes were a stark contrast against the pillows. His lips were cracked. He looked rough and worn, but most of all he looked tired. It seems like an eternity since she had last seen him, and she looked away ashamed.

"It's not as bad as it looks, kid," he croaked, as he caught a breath.

Air rushed back into her lungs, as his voice settled her. Andy took a slow breath, and attempted a smile, but it fails. He looked terrible.

"Uncle Anton," she whispered shakily.

"Well, at least I know what it takes to get you to visit me." He caught a breath again.

"That's not fair. You know me better than that."

Nothing about his words were funny to her. Or amusing, and she wiped her eyes quickly to stop the onslaught of tears that were beginning to pool.

"I know," said Anton. "I'm sorry."

"Please say you know me better than that," Andy said softly. She wanted to touch Anton, but she doesn't know if she could handle any real contact with him. She touched him anyway. He felt extremely hot, he was running a fever.

"Your hands are cold," Anton grumbled softly, before he closed his eyes.

Anton didn't look like he was breathing, and for a moment she thought he was...then he opened his eyes once more.

Andy smiled and took her hand away, "I see being ill hasn't changed your bedside manner."

He didn't answer, and she chewed her bottom lip with worry as he closed his eyes again and caught another ragged breath. Andy slipped off her coat and scarf and placed it on an empty chair, and stood closer.

"Guess what?" she asked cheerfully. "The nurse asked me who I was, as only family members can visit. I... I told her I was your niece. Do you hear me Uncle Anton? I told her I was your niece." Her voice rose with every word.

"Well that's who you are," he muttered. "Stopped shouting," he added grumpily. "I thought you were going to tell me something useful."

Andy shook her head but was comforted by his familiar stubborness. They both looked at each other for a long time, uninterrupted. Saying so much and so little with their eyes.

"I...I brought you something," Andy said, and slipped her hand inside her pocket, and pulled out a pendant. Anton slowly moved his head slowly. He grimaced, it was too painful to move.

"It's Saint Michael," she explained, and extends her open palm. "He's supposed to keep you safe, and away from harm."

Anton looked overwhelmed by the gesture.

"I didn't know if… if you would like it."

"Could you help me put it on?" he asked, his voice hoarse and full of emotion.

Andy tentatively moved closer. She delicately lifted the small pendant and as he tipped his head forward, slightly, and she slipped the chain around his neck. His skin was still hot to touch.

Anton took her hand. His eyes remained steady on hers, unwavering and intense. She found herself unable to look away.

His grip was strong. He remained silent.

Eventually he closed his eyes and mumbled sentences that did not make sense to her. Anton was no longer lucid in what he was saying, and was delirious. He was muttering about red wine costing one hundred dollars, caterpillars, babies, Vancouver and hot dogs. At least that's what she thinks she heard.

Andy stayed with him a short while, watching his face and committing it to her memory. She was so engrossed she didn't noticed Priscilla in the doorway, who slipped away to give them more time alone. Andy lent and kissed Anton on the forehead, running her hand across him clammy skin, unsure if he would pull through.

_Worry about the things that are important, and forget the rest._

Anton was important and it took him getting sick to acknowledge the fact. Her feelings for him ran deep, and she suspected it stemmed from her childhood. He couldn't help the way things had turned out in her life, no more than she could.

Standing abruptly Andy tucked him in, and began to leave. Buttoning up her coat she hurried towards the exit in deep thought, and walked straight into a young man rushing into the room with equal speed. Andy reached out her hand to steady herself and froze to the spot when she realised who she was touching. She yanked her hand away as if she had been burnt and took a step back. They both seem to know who one another were without any formal introductions, and the likeness between them was uncanny. She fully took in the appearance of his very tall man. He was handsome, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes, which mirrored the fear in her own.

Christopher seemed startled and he looked at Andy like she never had been before. His cheeks were flushed from the cold weather and his eyes were a mess of emotion. They both looked as shocked and unprepared as each other. His eyes began to fill with tears, but he was unable to speak.

_I'm not ready, I'm not ready, her inner voice shouted._

Unsure of what to do, Andy tensed her jaw and marched passed Christopher. She turned to look at him one last time, and did what Andy McNally does best under pressure. She runs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Yep, I need coffee. Lots of it!<strong>


	21. Chapter 21

**AN- Thanking you all for your wonderful reviews, messages and alerts. I'm sorry I couldn't get this chapter out any sooner. My recent schedule had allowed very little time to write and this chapter took some time to put together even though I knew where I wanted it to go.**

**I hope you like it, and rest assured the following chapter is already in progress... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21: Mirror On The Wall.<strong>

Christopher watched Andy walk away and yet he remained firmly rooted to the spot. Several thoughts were spinning around his mind in such frenzy, that he could not grasp hold of a single one in order to make a decision about what to do next.

He wanted his uncle.

Only seconds had passed, but it was long enough to see his Andy walk further away from him. As he stood and watched, Christopher was conscious that he was trembling, and his heart was pounding in his chest at an alarming rate. He felt the walls closing in on him, and the adrenaline rushing around his body demanding that he make a decision. Even though he wasn't a medic, Christopher recognised the symptoms as a panic attack simply because of all the times he'd experienced them as a child. He lost count of the number of times he would literally pass out, due to his inability to allow oxygen to enter his lungs in a normal fashion. His aunt would always encourage him to focus on his breathing, stroking his hair and whispering gentle words of reassurance. But not his uncle. 'Grab the bull by the horns,' he would say. 'Deal with it. Don't let it control you, you control it.'

Wise words.

He watched as his sister hurried along the corridor, determined to get as far away from him as possible, and as much as he wanted to run after her, to stop her from walking away he did not. He called out loudly instead: "You don't have to run away from me. I'm not going to stop you from leaving!"

Immediately Christopher stopped trembling, and he felt his heart rate begin to slow down.

* * *

><p>Andy stopped, halted by the sound of his voice and words but still did not turn around. For a moment she had to remind herself to breathe. In and out. In and out.<p>

She wanted her dad.

Without warning, anger mounted in Christopher's chest at her behaviour. Sure things were complicated, but running away never really simplified things. A problem never solved itself just because a person chose not to be there; generally it tended to make things much worse.

That was something else his uncle had told him.

Christopher knew why she had done it. Run. It was a trait he had inherited too amongst other foibles. For a brief moment he wondered which parent they had inherited from.

"Do you know..." he asked, in a voice that sounded resentful. "Do you know why you are even here tonight? Why bother with your half baked attempts at caring?"

Christopher watched Andy's shoulders slump, but he continued on regardless, as he grabbed his symbolic bull by the horns.

"I'm not going to stop you even if I wanted to. The most important person in the world to me might die, and right now I need to be with him."

Andy turned suddenly to face Christopher, only to see that he had already walked away. She squeezed her eyes shut and blinked a few times not truly grasping the situation. She concentrated on breathing, knowing she had to get it together before she left the confines of the hospital. Taking a deep breath, she made her way outside and sat on a bench, relishing in the bitter cold. Her eyes were focussed on nothing in particular, and in the distance the sirens of an ambulance was pleasantly soothing.

Under normal circumstances, Andy wouldn't have bothered him, especially at that time of night. But she had to speak to Sam. Grabbing her phone, Andy dialled his number, her hands incapable of working its keys with dexterity. When she finally managed to hit the right numbers, she held her breath at the first ring. She had no idea what she was going to say.

"Hey," Andy said softly as she heard the line connect.

"Andy, where are you?" Sam whispered back sleepily. "And why are we whispering?"

"Can you meet me down here, Sam? You won't understand if you don't see it for yourself."

"Where are you? Are you working more overtime?"

"No. I'm at St. Mark's."

"The church?" Sam asked in surprise.

"The hospital."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Worry laced her partner's voice and Andy smiled slightly as she imagined him sitting up in bed alarmed. He was so protective of her, and was even more so now that he and her were together.

"I'm not hurt Sam. I just need you, please."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said quickly, already pulling on his jeans while they spoke.

* * *

><p>They both sat in a tense silence once Andy had told Sam why she was at the hospital.<p>

"Well, say something," she urged.

"What can I say? You made me leave a warm bed so you could tell me that you visited a man who isn't worth your concern," he said coolly as he stood up and placed his back against a wall.

Inhaling deeply, Andy quelled her temper and looked towards the sound of two chattering nurses exiting the building, most likely ending their shift for the night.

"That's not fair. You don't know that," she told Sam.

"Neither do you," Sam shot back. "Not really."

Pushing herself to her feet, Andy moved and stood beside him, waiting patiently for Sam to continue. She couldn't mess this conversation up; she didn't want to lose him. The bitter wind tossed a strand of hair across her eyes, but she didn't move to brush it back. She just waited.

Stubbornly, Sam refused to acknowledge her presence, and stared at his truck parked haphazardly in an ambulance bay. He just needed to absorb the situation, and he was a little too shell shocked to shout. He hated to argue with Andy about this topic, probably as much as she did. He wasn't willing to fight about it. So they both stood and waited.

Sam could not maintain the oppressive silence much longer. He fixed his eyes on the building across the street, and in a low voice, said, "You promised me, Andy. You promised me you wouldn't see him again. Not after everything that happened, especially with Boyd."

Andy searched his expression and found mainly disapproval and concern. Although he tried to mask it there was anger behind his eyes, when his resolved finally cracked and he looked at her.

"Sam…"

"No Andy, things are good...great and I just don't understand why all this is starting up again."

"You asked me to choose, to make a choice and I chose you."

"Did you choose me? So what are you doing here...exactly?"

"Come and talk to the doctors with me. Let them explain what I am talking about."

"Andy…" he said, in a tone that was pained. He left the rest unspoken.

She tried to ignore the tug in her heart at hearing his distress, spurred on by the need to try to make Sam understand what she was feeling.

"Okay...we don't have to talk to the doctors. You can go and take a look for yourself. He's in room twelve."

Sam scoffed. "The only thing that would make me see him is if I could take a picture; show the world he's dead...well almost dead," he revised. He spoke slowly, almost salivating at the prospect

Sam saw the flash of hurt across Andy's face, and instantly felt like a bastard, for upsetting her.

He took a step forward, but Andy stopped him and shook her head. "I get that you don't care about him, but I kind of thought you cared about me."

Sam halted, and stared at her thoughtfully. Andy matched his intensity, and did not budge. She was right. He didn't give a damn about Anton and they both knew that. His gaze dropped to the floor between them then, suddenly unclear of what to do next. He has no idea what else she expected him to say or do.

"I think he's going to die Sam," Andy whispered, as she dug her hands into her coat pocket. "All my past, will be lost once he takes his last breath."

Startled by the raw emotions in her voice, he turned her body to face him, watching her questionably.

"He's really sick, you wouldn't recognise him. I really don't know what else to say to you except I tried to stay away, but I had to see him. I would never forgive myself if I didn't take the chance to try and put things right. It was the right thing to do, and I'm glad he knew I came because although he wouldn't say it, I know he was hurting."

Sam had felt the strength and sincerity in her words and as much as he detested Hill, her words had moved him.

"I'm so sorry this is affecting you," Sam spoke. And he genuinely was.

Andy nodded once. "I'll get over it."

He wasn't so sure that she would.

"But this is never going to work if you don't trust me, Sam. Seeing him tonight doesn't change the way I feel about you. You must know that by now," she said finally.

Sam rested the back of his head against the wall and let out a deep breath in response. His body language spoke volumes, and at times it was easier for Andy to focus on all the things he was not verbalising to really understand him.

"I'll do anything to make our relationship work, Sam. But sometimes...just sometimes things are not always black and white. They're shades of grey and there are other things to consider in all of this than just you and me."

Andy couldn't believe she was using Anton's words, but right then they had never rung so true.

Sam looked at his partner and considered her comments. He really did, and tried to reply with the same honesty.

"I'm worried, Andy," he admitted. "I'm worried that I'll wake up one day and never see you again because you've chosen them. If that's what you're going to do then let me know."

Andy sighed, and flicked her hair out of her eyes with her hand. "I'm not going anywhere or doing anything without you, Sam. That's why I asked you here tonight. I meant it when I said I chose you. I chose you Sam Swarek, I chose you."

The corners of Sam's mouth curled upward in a smile that melted her. Maybe he wasn't so angry and disappointed after all

"So, what now, you're going to keep visiting him?" Sam asked calmly.

Andy sighed silently and leaned against the same wall. "I don't know. No. Maybe," she shrugged.

Desperate for some contact, Andy reached over, lacing her fingers within his own. He squeezed her hand gently, and she felt her eyes fill.

"Don't be mad," she whispered as she leaned into him. "Don't be mad." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

The tears were coming a bit faster now and she wanted to turn away. To turn away and run, but she couldn't. This was Sam. Her Sam.

"Shhh." He stepped forward and embraced her. "Don't cry..."

"Don't be mad," she uttered once more, before she broke down, giving in and wrapping her arms around him as well. Burying her head in his chest, she held on to him for all she was worth, hoping to excise out her pain, and his.

Sam knew he felt threatened by a man who sounded as if he was finally bowing out of this life. This thing between them had been two years coming, in fact it was his whole adult life coming and he wasn't going to let anything screw it up now. Not Anton Hill, not Andy and certainly not himself. If she wanted to visit Hill, he wouldn't stand in her way, there was no point in competing against a dying man.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked once her crying subsided.

"Yes," Andy murmured, although she hesitated slightly.

"Andy, we need to go," he said holding her hand, and pulling her gently in the direction of his truck.

"My brother's in there Sam," she whispered, nodding towards the hospital entrance.

"That's a good thing right?" he asked.

"Not if you practically run away from him."

Sam pulled a face.

"I didn't want to run... I just panicked and now I've upset him."

"So go and say hi properly."

"Sam...I..."

"Just say hi, give him your number or take his. No one says you have to call each other right away. One step at a time. I'm sure he'll understand. This is what you wanted, don't waste the opportunity."

Andy smiled a watery smile, drawing strength from his words.

"Hurry it up McNally, I want to sleep, and you need to sleep."

"Okay," she whispered, chewing her bottom lip and Sam gently pushed her forwards towards the hospital entrance.

"I'll meet you by the truck."

As she walked away, Sam took a deep breath, proud that he had not screwed things up. Things were still on track. They were still good. They still had a fighting chance.

* * *

><p>Andy entered room twelve, and watched as Priscilla and Christopher sat close to Anton's bed. Priscilla acknowledged her presence with a tired and weary smile. Andy could tell this was taking its toll on her.<p>

Christopher, aware of another presence in the room, turned to Andy and looked at her with a familiar set of brown eyes that were as glassy as her own. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, and did not remove it.

"I'm sorry about before, Christopher... I..."

Christopher put out his hand to silence her, before he turned away and continued to stare at his uncle.

He tentatively reached up and gave her hand a tight squeeze, and Andy sighed quietly with relief. What surprised her most was he did not let her hand go.

"It's all an act you know...the grumpiness and the menacing attitude. He's a real softy deep down," Christopher said fondly.

"I know," was all Andy managed to say.

Priscilla turned her face away, as she wiped away her tears. Christopher put a free arm around her shoulder in comfort, and turned to face his sister.

"He's the only real father I've ever known, and he's made me into the person I am today. I should have realised something was wrong when he wasn't getting better from the flu. But the stubborn man in him kept going to work every day acting as if everything was normal."

Christopher turned back to the Anton's unconscious form and together they all watched in silence, captivated by the rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm glad you're here Andy, but now really isn't the time," he stated in a direct manner that was similar to Anton.

"No," Andy nodded in agreement, as Priscilla began to object. "It isn't."

She rummaged around in her purse for a business card and placed it on the bed for Christopher to see.

"That's why I came back. Here's my number, we should talk some time... in the future. Keep me updated though...a text will be fine," she added hurriedly.

Christopher simply nodded not once taking his eyes off Anton.

Andy kissed Priscilla on the cheek, and quietly slipped out of the room.

...

Neither spoke about it again when they got home as there was very little left to say. They both got undressed in silence, moving around the bathroom in complete tandem as Andy brushed her teeth and Sam removed in contact lenses.

They both lay in bed, and Andy pulled the thick blanket to keep them warm and rested her head against his chest. Sam's fingers tangled in her hair and she sighed at the contact. Very soon they both began to relax, and after a few minutes, all that could be heard were the sounds of them sleeping.

* * *

><p>The following day at work could be summed up in one word. Busy.<p>

Andy was partnered with Dov, whose relentless energy and constant chatter was enough to lift her mood. Even after they had been sworn at by a group of teenagers, as well as having to clean vomit off their boots, he still managed to find the adventure and excitement in it all.

She guessed it must have been one of those days, as the other officers commented on the craziness of the day that couldn't be attributed to a heat wave. As they commiserated one another at the amount of reports they needed to write up, Andy wanted nothing more but to go home, watch a movie cuddled up with Sam and a cold bottle of beer. She missed working with him. The end of her shift could not come soon enough, she was exhausted.

…

Andy rinsed out her glass before placing it on the counter. She did the same with the other glasses that were in the sink before moving on to the dirty plates from dinner. She was lost in her own little world, not thinking about anything in particular. Andy hummed to herself as she scrubbed the pots that were used to cook, applying more pressure to a particularly stubborn stain. She couldn't wait to change out of her work clothes. Normally it was the first thing she did when she got home but they had been late leaving work because of all the paperwork, and she had wanted to get dinner started. Andy was certain, Sam had not eaten properly over the last few weeks as she had been picking up more and more overtime, and basically came home to sleep.

"I thought I told you not to lift a finger," a voice whispered in her ear.

She smiled as his warmth breath made her hair, tickle the back of her neck.

"I decided to go ahead and tidy up," she explained, tilting her head to the side so he would brush his lips across her neck.

"I told you I'd get it," Sam reminded, as he breathed in her scent. He slid his arms around her waist, pressing his body closer to her as he kissed her softly.

"I know, but we have a rare day off together tomorrow so I thought I'd make an effort. I actually like household chores so it's no big deal."

"Do you want me to run you a bath?"

"That depends," Andy purred. "Will you be joining me?"

Sam laughed enthusiastically. "I think that was the plan McNally when I purchased the Jacuzzi style bath tub."

"So let me finish up cleaning this mess, and I'm all yours."

Sam kissed her one last time and went to the bathroom. Andy couldn't help but chuckle when she saw he had already slipped off his t-shirt in preparation.

She finished washing the last of the pots and mopped the floor. Emptying the bin, she quickly made her way to put out the trash.

"McNally!" Sam sang from upstairs. "The water's getting cold."

"Coming!" Andy shouted as she quickly went to open the door.

She felt her cell phone vibrate in her back pocket. Juggling the phone under one ear, and lifting the lid off the garbage can she connected the call.

"Hello."

"Hi Andy, It's Christopher." She barely heard him.

"Oh." She dropped the trash on the floor in her surprise at hearing his voice.

It was noisy where he is calling from, but she could still make out his heavy breathing. He sounded like he was crying.

"How is Uncle Anton?" she asked nervously.

"No improvement. He's not responding to the medication, and he hasn't made a sound since yesterday. I left the others there with him. I went for a short walk to clear my head, and somehow I ended up here."

"Where's here?" she asked softly, finally managing to deposit the garbage in the trash can.

"Just some pub. I don't even know its name."

They both remain silent at his revelation. Andy was concentrating on remembering to breathe whilst Christopher played with half an empty bottle of beer, peeling its label off in small strips.

Andy made her way back inside the house and sat at the edge of the settee, unsure of what to say. It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. She felt she needed to be the one to say something and break the tension. She was the elder sibling, and he rang her looking for something. Andy knew what he really wanted was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. She couldn't tell him not to worry and that everything would be fine because she didn't think it would.

"I think…"Andy said gently, as she lay back against the settee, "... that things will get easier. All of it."

"How?" His voice sounded so lost and desperate to her, and Andy swallowed thickly.

"With time. Time is a great healer. My granny always said that when I was growing up and she was right. Just take each day as it comes."

"I hate time...and space. Two things I am not so good at," he confessed.

"It takes practice, and...time."

Christopher nodded into the phone, and pushed his bottle of beer away. He let the bartender take his unfinished bottle, sliding a ten dollar bill on the bar counter before standing up.

"What are you doing now?" she asked, hearing the rustling sound through her phone.

"Talking to you."

"Other than talking to me."

"I'm going back to the hospital, to drive Tina and Aunty Priscilla home. Ryan and Maury will stay the night. We don't want to leave him alone, in case...he needs to know he's not alone."

It was now Andy's turn to nod into her phone.

"So what are you doing now?" Christopher asked, as he cleared his throat uneasily.

"Bath and bed. In that order. It's been a long day," Andy replied.

"Well...enjoy your rest. Goodnight Andy."

"Goodnight Christopher."

"It's Chris. All my friends and family call me Chris."

"Goodnight Chris."

He disconnected the call, and Andy sat for a moment contemplating their conversation. She rose to make her way upstairs, leaving a trail of clothes as she made her way to the bathroom. She plastered her award winning smile on her face, pushing through any negative emotions. Her phone beeped to indicate an incoming text message. It was from Christopher and she read its contents.

Simple and straight to the point.

"_Thanks."_

…

The bathroom is in total darkness accept for several large scented candles which Sam had lit, which gave the room a warm glow. The radio was playing some love song, and Andy laughed softly at Sam's cheesiness.

"Hey," he said in his best sexy voice. "Come on in."

Andy climbed in the tub, and slid backwards, reclining so that her back was against his chest. She enjoyed the warmth on her aching muscles and allowed her fingers to skim the surface of the water. Sam gently caressed her stomach, drawing intricate patterns with his fingertips.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess... " she answered.

"How about now?" Sam asked as he placed a kiss on her temple.

Andy twisted to face him and smiled a real smile, and then curled her body into him. She enjoyed the feeling of his fingers, which were wrapped around the back on her neck and waist.

"My brother rang."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Spoke for a few minutes. It wasn't easy."

Sam waited for Andy to continue but she didn't, opting to bury herself into him further. They spoke about other random things instead. Work, politics, current affairs, the recent winner of 'Canada's Got Talent' and other celebrity gossip. It was nice having some alone time. It had been a while.

...

Andy and Christopher never spoke again since that night, but she had received four messages from Christopher telling her that there had been no change in Anton's condition. So a few weeks later when he telephoned and asked if she would like to have a meal one evening when she was free, Andy said yes. They had agreed a date several days away, which gave her enough time to get used to the idea that she was finally meeting her baby brother.

* * *

><p>Sam had stood cross-armed, leaning against the door frame as he watched Andy walk around the bathroom adjusting her purple chiffon dress. It was a simple design, but with her make-up and accessories he thought she looked beautiful.<p>

She leant forward on the balls of her bare feet, placing a hand flat against the sink as she stared in the mirror and applied her make-up. Her lips glimmered with the faintest hint of lip gloss and a sweep of eye-shadow across her eyelids; as her freshly washed hair hung loose. Andy's dark brown eyes seemed brighter as she carefully added some mascara.

"How do I look?" she asked self-consciously. "It doesn't scream scared as hell right?"

"You look fine," Sam said calmly.

"God! I'm going to screw this up, say something stupid. It's what I do," Andy cried, throwing her arms in the air with frustration.

"Hey...you say dumb stuff to me every day and I still hang around."

"Funny Swarek," Andy deadpanned.

"Yeah, I thought so. Just be yourself Andy. He'll love you."

...

Christopher didn't understand why he had put cologne on. He didn't know why he had checked his appearance in the mirror six times in the last fifteen minutes, and he couldn't explain why his palms kept becoming clammy at the thought of the next couple of hours. He stared at his appearance in the mirror and took a deep breath. He was nervous. He was nervous to have dinner with his sister. It sounded strange even in his mind. Sister.

He stared at his appearance for the millionth time and changed his shirt for the fifth. Priscilla watched him with amusement. It was the first time she had smiled in the last couple of weeks. She wished her husband was here to see it; he would be over the moon that his niece and nephew were finally meeting.

"Andy won't care what you're wearing sweetie," she said, as Christopher took off his shirt, replacing it with one he had tried on earlier.

"I know but I want to look my best. I've booked a table at La Fourchette. I didn't tell her to dress up. Oh my God! What if she doesn't realise and comes in jeans? She'll hate me!"

Christopher changed his shirt again, finally settling on a pale blue shirt, and matching jumper in darker shade of blue. Priscilla nodded at his choice from where she was perched at the foot of his bed.

"What if she doesn't like French food? She should do right? Maybe I shouldn't have presumed."

He took another deep breath and stared at his aunt for reassurance.

"Look, Chris she'd be happy with a hot dog and a can of coke from what I remember. One thing she doesn't have is airs and graces. What's not to like about French food? Don't worry."

Christopher nodded, staring at his reflection once more.

"Just be yourself sweetheart," Priscilla added.

"It's really happening, isn't it Aunty P?"

"Yes sweetheart just as I promised."

"You are going to see Uncle Anton?" he asked as he chewed his bottom lip with worry.

"Yes, just as soon as I make sure you're alright, and don't pass out from worry," Priscilla teased.

"Good. I'm coming with you to the hospital. I need to tell him that I'm finally meeting her. You didn't tell him did you? I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Christopher," she warned, slightly concerned at the way he spoke about Anton as if he was awake and alert. He hadn't been lucid for a while, and the last few weeks he was unresponsive. He was deteriorating and as much as she was holding on, she found herself rummaging through his papers going over his intricate and carefully constructed contingency plans. She had to hand it to her husband. You would need a PhD from Stanford to decipher his codes.

"But I have to tell him, it's what I would normally do if he was here, and I'm sure he can hear me. The doctors said we should keep talking to him."

He was becoming agitated and was trembling slightly. Priscilla stroked his back soothingly.

"Yes sweetheart, you are right. We should keep talking to him."

She felt his body relax against her hand, knowing any potential panic attack had been averted.

"So what are we waiting for?" she said with a false dose of positivity. "Let's see your uncle and tell him the good news."

* * *

><p>Sam jostled his keys in his hands whilst they stood in front of his truck, waiting for Andy to emerge from the house.<p>

They both smiled, and nodded. Andy rolled her head, trying to relieve the nervous tension in her neck.

"Nervous?" Sam asked, as he massaged her neck.

"Yeah," she moaned, as he pressed more firmly.

"I can still come...offer my support. I promise not to embarrass you," he smiled.

"No Sam, I need to this alone. You go to Sarah's like we agreed. I'll text you throughout the night so you don't worry."

Sam wasn't happy, but they had agreed a plan, so he had to trust her and follow it through.

He gestured towards the car. "So, I'll take you to the restaurant, and then I'll make my way to St Catherine's."

"I'll take the bus, work on my nerves and clear my head."

"Okay...and by the way I put some pepper spray in your purse. You know...just in case."

Andy would normally be offended by the inference, but ignored it as she knew it was done out of concern. She rolled her eyes instead.

"Say hi to Sarah."

She took a step closer, allowing Sam to pull her closer.

"Good luck, sweetheart."

"Thanks," she whispered. "I love you."

Sam gave a wink, slid into his truck and drove away.

...

Andy arrived outside the restaurant far too early; the only saving grace was that Christopher was even earlier. They both recognised one another, and suddenly Andy's throat runs dry.

"I'm early," they both say it at the same time and it brings a small smile to Andy's lips. Christopher takes her hand in his own and studies her delicate fingers and the unusual bracelet on her wrist. He scanned her again, and even though her coat was tightly buttoned up he could see she had long tanned legs through her sheer stockings. He wanted to ask her if that was her natural skin tone or whether she used a sun bed. He was a lot fairer by comparison, which made him think of his mother, but quickly dismissed the thought. Tonight was about getting to know one another, and find out more about this woman who had captured his uncle's and father's heart.

"Our reservation is not for another thirty minutes. Do you want to walk for a while?" Christopher asked.

Andy nodded and he showed her the way to a bridge close by that gave a nice view of the city's landscape. They walked together in an uncomfortable silence towards it, both aware that they were venturing into uncharted territory. There was so much Christopher wanted to ask Andy, some quite trivial, but things he had always wondered and that his uncle was unable to answer. As they approached the bridge, he placed his hand on the small of her back, hoping to ease each other's anxiety.

"Just a second." Andy quickly fired a text message to Sam, telling him where she was. She needed to keep her end of the agreement, and she felt strangely reassured that he knew her whereabouts. Dropping her phone back into her purse, she smiled nervously.

"So?" she asked, actually at a loss for what to say.

"Well how about formal introductions?" Christopher suggested. "I can go first if you like."

"Sure."

He cleared his throat. "Christopher Michael Hill. And you are?"

"Andrea Nathalie McNally," she replied, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you,"

"The pleasure's all mine Andy," Christopher smiled.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: *Sigh* Well who would have thought a simple dinner date between a brother and sister would turn out to be so darn tricky? I can honestly say I have spent a lot of time on that pesky conversation, trying to get the feel just right and I hope I did it justice. But it's finally done *happy face*... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22: A Feast of Discussions.<strong>

They both stood staring across the water.

"So you're not a Laville?" Andy asked curiously.

"No," Christopher replied as he shook his head. "Always been a Hill, which I suppose came in handy when I went to live with my aunt and uncle. You know? It avoided those awkward questions."

Andy nodded as she stared towards the traffic in the distance.

_Breathe in and breathe out._

"So were you a Laville or did Bella name you Hill too?" Christopher asked trying to draw out the beginnings of a conversation.

Andy noted he referred to his mother...correction their mother by her first name but she did not comment. She'd been doing that for years with Sophia.

"I was a Laville, but I'm a McNally now," she replied a little too harshly. "It seems strange given that I'm French huh?" she added much calmer, realising how she may have sounded.

"But you're Irish too, so it works." Christopher had no way of reading Andy, but sensed the conversation was agitating her.

Andy turned to face him in confusion.

"Our grandparents were Irish."

"Really?" she half smiled, her anxiety alleviated slightly by his revelation.

"Yep. Uncle Anton would drag us to Ireland once a year to see his mom when we were younger. I've never met his dad, he died years ago, but Grandma Hill...let's just say she left a lasting impression."

His words made her bond with Tommy and Margaret feel more real, and that they really did have things in common other than a name. She was Irish after all...well half anyway. She could still celebrate St Patrick's Day with pride and not feel like a fraud.

"What was she like?" she asked gently, suddenly anxious again.

"Her name was Rosemary. Loud. Talkative. Loving. She cooed around us, leaving a trail of pink lipstick marks all over our faces." Christopher's features seemed softened by the memory. "She would talk about you all the time asking Uncle Anton to find you and bring you home. Uncle Anton found it difficult to talk about you and would get upset. I think that was the first time I found out I had a real sister. "

The mood turned more sombre and the air felt thick as they both contemplated on the brief conversation.

Christopher cleared his throat, unsure whether to continue along their current line of discussion.

"We should probably head back now," Christopher suggested as he glanced at his watch. "We can't talk about everything in one night," he laughed nervously.

"Um…look. Christopher... Chris. I guess I should tell you before we get too far into this evening that I don't know if I want to make tonight a…." the words seemed stuck in her throat.

"A what?" He stopped her with a hand at her elbow. "A what, Andy?" His face paled slightly.

She looked anywhere but in his eyes. "A regular thing."

There was anger bubbling through his veins and he was not completely sure why. She was the one that kept running away, she had left. Not once but twice and he deserved more than what she was doing and saying. At least Christopher hoped he did. Maybe his mother was right when she did and said all those things to him. Shaking his head, he concentrated on his anger and annoyance instead.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean Andy?"

Andy focussed on Christopher again as she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip in concentration.

"Look...that probably came out wrong. I just meant that maybe we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves."

"This isn't a joke to me being here tonight, Andy. So you need to decide. You can't pick and choose when to know me."

"I know that, but it's complicated. I have to tread carefully as I have my dad to consider in all of this and his feelings matter."

"What about my feelings? Why can't you have two lives, families, histories? Why don't you want both?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Well try me," he said as he shook her arm gently.

"I need a simple life, it's what I need. This thing with you is bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with... I have no idea of what I'm doing. I have no idea how to be a sister."

"So we deal with it together. Us."

"There you go again. There is no us, we've just met!"

"Not if you don't want there to be," Christopher retorted.

"I'm trying... I..."

It took Andy a while to find her voice and when she did it was ridden with upset and a hint of anger. "I came here tonight…" She paused and cleared some emotion out of her throat. "…because I was going to try it your way. Try to start over." She sighed with frustration.

"What do you mean was?"

"Nothing Chris, I mean nothing. Maybe I'm not expressing myself well. I do want to know you, but don't pressure me. You've had years to get used to the idea of having a sister, where as I've only had a few months of knowing you existed."

She sighed quietly and Christopher softened a bit at the defeated look in her eyes.

"Okay I'll stop pushing, but I just can't help it. I'm excited to have a sister."

Andy smiled warily. "I'm happy to have a brother too."

"Really?" The vulnerability could not be hidden in his voice.

"Yes, really. I'm just not so great at showing it. Probably due to 'Only Child Syndrome' or something to that effect," Andy rambled.

"Well then I'm suffering from 'Not An Only Child Syndrome' where everyone is loud, talks too much and says what's on their mind," he shrugged.

They held each other's gaze momentarily.

"I'm Sorry," they both said in unison.

"So how did you manage to get a reservation?" Andy deflected, shoving her hands into her pocket in the need for something to do. "I heard there is a six month waiting list to eat at that restaurant, so I thought I heard you wrong when you said we were eating there tonight."

"The owner is an old friend of the family. He'll always make a table available," Christopher said casually.

Andy looked impressed.

"Well I am looking forward to it. I didn't eat lunch."

"Me too!" Christopher admitted, and they both smiled. "Seriously the food there is so good."

"Let's make our way back then, before they run out of food," Andy joked.

"They probably will by the time I get there. I have a pretty big appetite, I'm still a growing boy," Christopher said as he patted his stomach.

"Yeah right," Andy commented staring at his very tall and solid frame.

Christopher chuckled and offered an arm which Andy linked with her own as they both walked leisurely back to the restaurant.

* * *

><p>"I wonder how things are going with Chris and Andy?" Priscilla whispered to Maury.<p>

She placed a cool cloth on Anton's forehead and sighed softly. "He was so nervous. It reminded me of his first day at school."

"Well for his sake, I hope it goes well," Maury commented, as he handed his mother a cup of coffee.

Priscilla sat down next to her son, strangely comforted by the sounds of the equipment keeping her husband alive. Taking a sip of the coffee, she smiled at Maury.

"It was a smart idea to bring a Thermos, the stuff they have here is pretty bad."

"Yeah," Maury said.

"You're a good son, sweetie. Your father and I are very proud of you...all of you."

"Don't get all mushy on me." Maury rolled his eyes and handed her a cheese sandwich, which she took gratefully.

"He wants you boys to have the restaurant," she said softly. "It's in his will."

"I don't want to talk about that now," Maury said, blinking several times, as he sipped from his cup.

"We have to start to look at our options. He's not improving..."

Maury shook his head, as if trying to dislodge her words from his mind.

They were both aware it was something they needed to talk about. Although Chris was the eldest child, he was the eldest son and with that came expectations and responsibilities which he fully accepted.

"Well, I still don't want to talk about it. Not yet mom." His grip tightened around his cup.

Snapped out of her internal musings, Priscilla just nodded and backed off.

* * *

><p>Christopher and Andy were seated at a quaint corner table adorned with a rich gold embroidered table cloth and a set of matching napkins and cutlery which were heavy and intricately engraved. The décor in La Fourchette could only be described as lavish and decadent. Andy fixed her eyes on the artwork and marble statues decorating the walls as she and Christopher waited for their starter to arrive.<p>

"You like?" Christopher's eyes followed her gaze on a gold water fountain.

"It's really nice, Chris." She bestowed him with a warm smile. "I know this place isn't cheap. Let me help pay the bill at the end of the night okay?"

"You'll do know such thing. Besides the owner never takes money, and would probably be insulted if I tried to pay. He said he would be here tonight, he wants to meet you"

Andy pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yes you."

As if on cue, a portly man appeared waving his hands animatedly in their direction. He shook Christopher's hand enthusiastically before embracing him warmly and kissing him on both cheeks.

"Christopher, so good to see you again!"

Christopher rolled his eyes at Andy, who raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Having suitably greeted Christopher, he turned to look at Andy, and surprised her by bending down on one knee with ease, bowing his head and placing a gentle kiss on her hand.

"Andy, this is Sebastian Laurent, the owner of La Fourchette," Christopher announced.

"It's nice to meet you again Andy, you've grown into a beautiful woman."

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

"A few times...I know your uncle and I knew your father." He faltered slightly, clearly unsure of whether to go on. He spoke much softly and patted her hand with his own chubby palm. "Maurice was a good, good man. I know he may have not always stayed on a straight path in life, but he was a true gentleman in every sense of the word."

"Oh," was all Andy was able to manage in response.

_Breathe in and breathe out._

Letting go of her hand, Sebastian rose to his feet and smiled.

"Eat and drink whatever you wish, everything is freshly made and uses the best quality produce. But you must try the Côte de Veau Dijonnaise. It was one of your father's favourites as well as the Lapin à la Moutarde. Rabbit is much harder to source these days, but not at La Fourchette!"

Sounding very much like a walking advertisement for his restaurant, Sebastian clicked his fingers at the waiting staff, and fired a barrage of instructions in rapid succession as they scuttled about. Within moments a waiter poured them both a glass of red wine, and although Andy was not a wine expert she knew it was expensive just by looking at the bottle.

"Enjoy your evening," Sebastian added, before moving over to another table to greet a group of dignitaries.

"Well, he was...interesting," Andy said.

"He sure is," Christopher agreed as he raised his wine glass. "So...to better days?"

"I'll drink to that," Andy conceded as she tapped her glass against his own.

…..

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked.

"I'm a journalist. Graduated top of my class," Christopher announced proudly.

"Wow that must be interesting. Reporting on world events and travelling the globe."

"I'm still new in the business and this is my first real job. It's just news articles. I cover events, mention the big corporations names... things like that."

"I used to love writing."

"I didn't know you wrote."

"I did a little in high school. More so at university but... after joining the academy I kind of let it go."

"What kind of writing? Did you ever get your work published?" He wanted to know everything, even if it took all night. There was still a fear he would never get the chance again. Feeling an absence of time, Christopher refilled her glass, prepared to stay there all night if necessary.

Andy watched him, suddenly feeling scrutinised.

"What does it matter? It was a long time ago."

"It's something I should know," he shrugged. "Don't you think? I know lots of things about my cousins."

Andy shook her head and brushed off the question like she did with everything else that seemed too personal between them.

Christopher sighed, observing just how closed off she was. It was strange as he was the complete opposite in that respect. He was going to comment but was interrupted by the waitress as she placed their food on the table, having long since devoured their starters. Christopher studied Andy, and thanked the waitress who placed a fresh bottle of wine on the table.

Andy opted for the Côte de Veau Dijonnaise, forgoing the Lapin à la Moutarde, which made her think of eating 'Mr Fluffles', her pet rabbit when she was eight years old.

She picked up her fork and knife and carved into a mouthful of veal smothered with creamy mustard and herb sauce. She took a bite, savouring the morsel of meat before swallowing, washing it down with a sip of wine. She closed her eyes appreciatively and continued to eat. Once Christopher saw she had settled he started to eat also. He couldn't decide when ordering between the braised beef or goats cheese tart, so simply ordered both.

"What made you start writing?" Andy queried, keeping the focus on him and away from herself.

"Uncle Anton..." Christopher began almost hesitantly.

It seemed like everything always came back to Anton.

"He's a fantastic storyteller, at least when I was four anyway. He used to read to me most nights, and sometimes he would tell me stories about our dad."

"Oh."

_Breathe in and breathe out._

"But you were lucky," he continued, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence.

Andy looked at him strangely.

"You got to meet him and know him. He sounded like a great guy; I was just a few years too late."

He stared down at his plate, swallowing a piece of his goats cheese tart before proceeding to reveal one of his innermost thoughts.

"I guess I'd like to know if we would have got on. I wonder if he would have come and found me if he knew about me. Uncle Anton said he would without a doubt, that he took you in without a second thought. I guess I'll never know."

"Well you got to know our mother; I don't remember her at all so I guess it's even," Andy reflected.

"She wasn't worth knowing," Christopher said abruptly, before looking away.

"Was it bad?"

"Yes," was all he said, as he raised his glass to his mouth.

"How?"

The cop in her noticed his hands were trembling, and a myriad of emotions flashed across his face as he drank from his glass.

"She was hard and unforgiving, and I knew from a very young age that I didn't matter."

His tone was very factual and she knew there was more to the story as she contemplated his words.

"But it got better once you moved in with the Hills?" She threw the question at him, hoping to stop him from being sucked into the vacuum of a painful memory.

"Most definitely. Uncle Anton and Aunty Priscilla are great. But I guess you already knew that. You met them before I did too."

"I was a kid. I didn't know any different. It was all I knew."

Christopher nodded.

They sat and ate in silence, which was made bearable by the pleasant tones of the pianist. Christopher looked up from his plate and narrowed his eyelids, as he prepared to ask the one question he'd been trying to ask all evening.

"Why didn't you want to meet me?"

Andy sat back in her chair, and allowed herself to give in to the inevitable question. She was expecting it much sooner in all honesty.

She paused before answering. "I was trying to keep away from everything. I think it was the situation as much as it was you."

Christopher nodded, although his eyes told her that he wanted to hear more.

"I had a few personal problems going on in my life when I started to learn about Maurice and Uncle Anton. I had no idea about you and only heard your name around the dinner table, and that was only because Tina blurted it out."

"Yeah... I heard. Ouch!"

"That's one way of putting it. It was too much too soon. I felt overloaded.

"I know Tina and Maury were acting like jerks too. They didn't mean it, I suppose you unsettled them. If it's any consolation, I felt very isolated from Ryan and Maury when I first arrived, but now they are like my brothers and Tina is like my little sister."

Andy tilted her head to the side as she considered a response to his words.

"I guess... but it was really awkward and uncomfortable. I regretted going."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, I would have been if I had known. We could have ganged up them," Christopher said with a small smile.

"All I know is that it was stressing me, and I don't cope well with stress."

Christopher wanted to tell her he knew all about stress and anxiety, about his panic attacks, his inability to express himself but he doesn't. Too much too soon. There would be plenty of time for that later. He hoped.

"Okay, so let's talk about less serious things. We can play twenty questions," he suggested instead.

"Okay," she drew out the word slowly.

"Come on it will be fun and will help us relax. I don't want you to be guarded with me Andy. I want you to feel comfortable to talk to me. We're family."

Christopher stared at her and waited for some sort of response. He wanted to say more, but even he knew that there was no good way of admitting that he already truly loved her without freaking her out.

"So?" he asked, re-filling her wine glass and his own. "You can go first."

Andy took a large gulp of wine, considering the most neutral question she could muster. "What's your favourite snack?"

"Toast and strawberry jam," Christopher replied almost immediately. "You?"

"Definitely Hot dogs with lots of ketchup," she replied almost as quickly. "Now it's your turn..."

* * *

><p>"Hey Sam," Sarah smiled as Sam let himself into her house with his spare key.<p>

"I thought you'd be asleep already," he replied.

"Nah," she yawned. "Waiting for you. Steven has taken the girls to his parent's for the night so it's just you, me and James who is fast asleep."

"So how's things?" he asked, as he dropped his coat on the back of a chair.

"Good. How's Andy?"

"Good."

"Is she working tonight? I was hoping she would be here too."

"No, she had plans."

"And those plans didn't include you?" Sarah probed, sure there was more information for her to extract from him. She hated not knowing.

"We're not joined at the hip, Sarah."

"I never said you were," she said as she turned away from him, and walked into the kitchen.

Sam groaned and followed. "Sarah, I didn't mean to snap."

"No. It's okay," she sniffed.

She began to make coffee, not nearly upset as she was portraying. In fact she wasn't upset, she just wanted to know. Now.

"Sarah."

"No... really it's okay."

_One, two, three, she silently whispered._

"Look, I don't really get on with Andy's family, so I am here while she's there. That's all. There's nothing else to talk about."

_Interesting._

His resistance was like a red flag to a bull for Sarah: Game on.

_Sarah 1, Sam 0._

* * *

><p>"Best holiday?" Christopher asked.<p>

"Camping. Every summer my dad and I would go camping, just the two of us. We'd talk, build camp fires, go for long walks and fish."

Christopher loaded a forkful of beef into his mouth and studied Andy with a penetrating glare.

"Sounds like fun. Uncle Anton isn't a camping guy. He likes to be comfortable," he laughed, slightly inebriated.

"No I don't imagine he is," Andy smiled, at the mental image of Anton pitching a tent in his shorts. "So what was your best holiday?"

"London, England. I went there for three months on an exchange programme as part of my journalism degree. Loved everything about the place, and it made me grow up too being so far away from home."

"Ooh, did you meet the queen?"

"Nah. She was always calling me though, wanting to hang out. In the end I had to tell her that it couldn't work, that we were from two different worlds."

He glanced at her, grinned and sipped his wine with ease. Andy watched him with amusement and laughed softly.

* * *

><p>Sam paced back and forth in front of the window. He kept checking his cell phone and then would glare out the window at the street. Sarah had been watching him from where she was on the settee, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to stop any time soon she decided to intervene.<p>

"So, Sam, I don't think I appreciate you wearing out my carpet." He stopped and gave her the same look he'd been shooting out the window.

Irritation.

"Besides if you're going to wear a hole into the carpet, you'll have to pay for it."

He laughed at her teasing and dropped into a chair across from her, his bad mood retreating.

"What's the plan then?" he grumbled.

"A movie and ice cream."

"Pistachio right?"

"Yes darling brother, what else?" She patted the seat next to her, and pulled the throw from the edge of the settee.

He sighed and made his way over to where Sarah was seated. He glanced briefly to his left and then to his right as if someone would miraculously appear and take a photo of him about to embark in this incriminating act. He snuggled up beneath blankets with Sarah, and instantly he was transported back to when they were young watching home movies over mugs of hot chocolate. Nobody else needed to see this, and even though it's pleasantly comforting, it was something that remained between him and Sarah. A Swarek Secret.

Sam knew Sarah was trying to break him down bit by bit; she'd done it a thousand times before. But not tonight, he's not talking.

Sarah moved closer and handed him the tub of ice cream that already had two spoons firmly lodged in its pale green goo that was just starting to melt. Just how they both like it.

_One, two, three. Sarah counts silently._

"So me and Andy's uncle don't see eye to eye, but Andy seems to like the creep. That's all. No big deal. I'm not talking about this anymore."

"Of course not Sammy," she says coolly taking a spoonful of the one item of food that they can agree on. "No more talking."

_We'll see about that._

_Sarah 2, Sam 0._

* * *

><p>As usual Sam was awake before Sarah heard the baby cry. Sarah sat up, and yawned, lucid enough after this extra sleep to take back her own thoughts. They had both fallen asleep on the settee an hour into the movie alongside an empty discarded tub of ice cream and a large bag of Nachos. The crying was not so unusual; it had been going on for nearly two weeks since James had begun teething.<p>

Sarah slid out off the settee and followed the sounds coming from the baby's room. She watched as Sam held James close humming softly, soothing the tears away. Ever the cop, he turned toward the sound of her footsteps.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. I rubbed some of that gel on his gums and he seems to be settling," Sam whispered, as he rocked the baby to and fro.

"No Sam, I meant with you."

He looked away, and Sarah presses, "You may as well just tell me."

"Andy," he said simply, laying a now quiet James back in his crib.

Sarah joined him and peered down at her son. "Is it something to do with where she is tonight?"

He nods shortly. "Andy has criminal connections." He glanced towards Sarah, afraid he's said too much. "I don't want to lay all this on you, Sarah; I don't want you to feel..."

"Anxious? Scared? I'm over all that jazz." She elbowed him playfully. "What's she done? Do I need to go kick her butt?"

Sam stared at James one last time, before focussing on his sister. "No. I just want Andy to watch herself. I worry."

Maybe he's being overprotective; she knows first-hand that he is. But right now she told him what she knew to be true:

"Andy loves you, Sam."

"I love her too, but I don't know how to make this work Sarah," he spoke, ashamed he was letting her down. "I don't know how to let go of the frustration of her wanting to spend time with her uncle. Every time I think I've come to grips with it I start to worry."

Sarah looked at him pointedly, knowing the one thing that kept them close was their honesty.

"Come on baby brother," she said, "It's time for some of my wisdom and for you to tell me exactly what is going on."

"Do I have a choice? I'm sure I'll regret it," he grumbled sarcastically.

"You'll regret it if you don't," she said firmly, as she took him by the hand and led him out of the room. "Although you may not like what I have to say, I'm still going to say it."

"Great," Sam groaned.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Sarah remarked with equal sarcasm.

* * *

><p>"Okay, okay, my turn," Andy's voice filtered through the restaurant. They had just started on their third bottle of wine for the evening. Although she wouldn't drink any more after that, the warm buzz of the alcohol was pleasant. She leaned her head against the back of the chair as she thought of a good question to ask him. For the past thirty minutes or so they had been bouncing questions back and forth, surpassing their twenty limit quota. Some were stupid, some were practical and others caused them to blush. The only rule was they both had to answer the question asked, not just the person it was directed at. "What is…what is…. what is… oh, what is the weirdest thing that has happened to you?"<p>

Christopher groaned. "Oh, I can't believe you went there!"

"Well for me it was arresting my boyfriend Sam, on my first day of the job."

Christopher laughed loudly, causing Andy to join in.

"Cool. Did you put him in handcuffs?"

"Yes, I'm still reminded of it up till this very day!"

"So what happened?"

"He was working undercover. He'd been under for eight month trying to..." she suddenly stopped realising just what she was going to say.

Christopher never commented if he knew, and if there was any animosity towards Sam his face did not show it.

"Well anyway it was a case of mistaken identity...what about you?"

"Ah well that's kind of easy. Moving in with my uncle and aunt. They talked to me, gave me attention and were affectionate. I found their behaviour weird, when in fact it was very normal."

He pushed his dessert plate forward, encouraging Andy to share his chocolate soufflé with him and she did.

"Andy?" he waited until her eyes found his. "Tell me something about you that no one else knows?"

"Well I don't like thunder and lightning. I'm not sure why, but I can never sleep properly whenever it rains really heavy and it thunders. I just feel uneasy."

"And Sam doesn't know this?"

Andy shrugged. "I guess we haven't had thunder yet," she added softly, as she ran a finger around the rim of the wine glass.

"You're not in a hurry are you?" He hoped to God she didn't say yes.

"Well, no."

"Good. They have a show here once a month. I thought you'd like to stay and watch...eat a little more. Apparently it's pretty spectacular. It finishes quite late, around 1am. So if you don't want to I'd understand, but it was one of the reasons I'd hoped you would meet me tonight."

"No, I'd like that Chris. I just need to let Sam know."

She pulled out her cell phone and sent Sam another text, whilst Christopher looked on curiously.

"Do you always tell your boyfriend what you are doing?"

"Yes...well the important stuff. We try to have an honesty policy and well he's anxious about me being here tonight."

Christopher's expression remained neutral, another Hill trait he had perfected.

Andy excused herself to use the ladies whilst the stage was being prepared for the show. Christopher finished the remaining wine in his glass and sent a text to his aunt to let her know things were going well and that he would see her later.

He almost thought Andy had done a midnight flit and escaped out of a back door when she did not arrive back after a few minutes. His heart had almost stopped when ten minutes had passed, but began to beat again once she returned. She looked a little flushed, but was smiling. As she made her way towards him he felt his anxiety dissipate instantly. He noticed several pairs of male eyes were transfixed on her and he felt protective, and pulled her chair closer just as the lights dimmed and the show was about to start.

* * *

><p>"Wow...It's just like Vegas," Andy whispered as she watched the dancers on stage. She had been smiling non-stop throughout. Christopher liked seeing her this happy, it made her glow.<p>

As the dancers took their final bow, Andy clapped enthusiastically with the rest of the audience. The lights shone brightly as the host announced a short interlude before the next act would start.

"Another dessert?" Christopher was already looking at the menu.

"Hmm...I wouldn't say no."

They both selected a wicked looking trio of chocolate desserts which they shared.

"So who's next?" Andy asked, as she licked the back of her spoon.

Christopher peered at the programme.

"An illusionist," he said dramatically.

"Cool," Andy guffawed at his voice.

They sat in silence, and briefly watched as the stage was transformed into a magicians delight.

"Don't hate Uncle Anton too much, Andy. It's the one thing about all of this that bothers him. The opinion all of us have of him really matters."

"I don't hate him Chris, and that's the problem," she admitted candidly for the first time that evening without any prodding. "As strange as it sounds there's something very warm and familiar when I'm around him."

"We're not too bad us Hills, we stick together. It might not always seem that way but we're a tight unit."

"I'm really glad you had them in your life, Chris. You seem happy."

"Well things could have been a lot worse. If mom left me with Richie, I really hate to think where things would be. I'd probably be prison, using or both."

"Richie?"

"Her boyfriend. Nasty piece of work. Hated me that's for sure."

"Why do you say that?" she asked cautiously. If she wasn't watching closely, she would have lost the almost sad expression that flitted across his face.

He shook his head and looked over her shoulder, as he narrowed his eyes.

"Because I wasn't his. He used to say I looked like Maurice and that's why I was so stupid...worthless...ugly. He used to say a lot of stuff like that."

"Well he's an idiot," Andy retorted.

"Yeah I know that now," he replied with a faint nod.

Andy took a spoonful of her dessert and waved it in front of him. "Try this," she whispered, "pretty fantastic, huh?" She smiled at him so warmly; he felt that none of his past mattered.

"Man, that's good," Christopher said dreamily, as the conversation was halted when the lights dimmed once more.

"Do you think he'll pull a rabbit out of a hat," Andy whispered as the stage filled with smoke and eerie music.

"I think that's considered animal cruelty these days," Christopher whispered back humorously.

"Or maybe Mr Laurent will make a..." she clicked her fingers as she tried to construct the sentence. "...A Lapin à la Moutarde with the rabbit instead."

They both smirked, and turned back to watch the stage as they prepared to be dazzled by the suitably named 'The Amazing Lumière', who actually turned out to be pretty amazing.

* * *

><p>"That's your advice?" Sam looked at Sarah, totally unimpressed.<p>

They both sat slumped on the settee nursing a cup of coffee.

"I don't see what else you can do Sam. Andy loves you Sam and as much as I like you, I'd like a few nieces and nephews some time in the future."

"Yeah, right," Sam scoffed. "One mention of kids and Andy will be on the first flight to Outer Mongolia."

"Well as I said, based on what you've told me those are really your two best options."

Sam groaned, not liking either.

"Who'd have thought it? A real life drug lord in the family. It's kind of cool in a way."

Sam simply glared at her.

"Anyway, shouldn't you be hitting the road? Didn't you text Andy back to say you would meet her at the restaurant?"

Sam jumped to his feet, and put on his jacket.

"Aren't you going to thank me for my advice?" Sarah shouted to his retreating form.

"No."

"Love you too, Sam," Sarah laughed. "Send Andy my regards."

* * *

><p>"Thank you again for dinner. It was great." Andy practically bounced with happiness.<p>

"So you wouldn't mind meeting again?"

"No I'd like that, I really would."

They walked towards the entrance and as the staff help her on with her coat, they both smiled at one another.

"I'll order us both a taxi?"

"No, I have a ride. Can I drop you anywhere?"

"No that's fine. I was going to head to the hospital, see Uncle Anton and grab a ride back with Maury."

Andy nodded suddenly feeling the cold. They both walked out and she could see Sam's truck parked across the street and she felt a warm glow just seeing him waiting. The two men stared at one another sizing each other up.

"Come on," Andy said tugging him by the arm, "I'll introduce you."

"Maybe another time," Christopher whispered mindful of his uncles warning.

"He doesn't bite," Andy smiled.

"Next time." He gestured for her to go to him. "That is if you allow this to become a regular thing."

A hug would have been the best way to end the evening, but both knew they were a long way from that. So it ended the way it began.

"It was nice to meet you Andy," Christopher said as he took her hand and shook it.

"It was nice to meet you too Chris. We'll do something again soon."

"I'd like that," he said as he dialled a taxi from his cell phone.

"Just so you know I used to write short stories. You asked me earlier," Andy finally admitted, as she crossed the road and hurried towards Sam.

...

Andy felt her body glide through the crisp air and her only thought was seeing Sam.

Sam was calmly waiting for her. He was stood against his truck, relaxed and smiling, and she was always struck by the difference in him between the times they were alone and when he was mixing with other people that are not from his close circle of friends.

"Hey," she whispered breathlessly, as if the walk had taken all of her effort. A wide smile graced her features.

"Hello gorgeous," Sam said, as he pulled her into his arms.

"You know what Sam?"

"What?" He turned to face her and she smiled.

"You never fail to surprise me. Waiting for me here tonight."

When Sam returned her smile, the twinkle in his eyes was not lost on her.

Sam took a moment to look at Andy. She didn't look the same as she did earlier and it seemed that in a few hours so much had changed. She looked fresher, happier and he was unsure of how that made him feel.

_Just remember none of that matters, she loves you dummy!_ He hears Sarah's voice whisper in his head.

"You okay?" Sam murmured, and Andy nodded and retracted slightly from the safety of his embrace.

And just as quickly, she was wrapped around him again, and their lips fused together as tightly as they could muster. When she pulled back, she smiled and leaned her forehead against his.

"I'll drive us home," he said huskily.

"You don't have to," Andy said. "The walk will do me good. I ate too much of everything."

"It's after one in the morning, Andy. You're not walking anywhere."

"Well I am a little tipsy and I could be talking nonsense," she giggled.

Sam opened the car door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat and kicked off her heels.

He shut the door, drowning the city noise out and the silence in, but he didn't start the car. She rolled her head to the side and smiled at him. Their eyes met, as they shared an intimate exchange of unspoken words. His eyes smile and his fingers squeezed her hand for a moment.

"Okay?" Sam asked.

Andy simply nodded and bent forward for another kiss.

"Talk to me," he whispered. "How did it go?"

"Good. But I want to go home now," she finally said. "I'm tired."

Sam started the car and pulled out into the traffic.

...

Sam held Andy tight as she staggered towards the house, a little unsteady on her feet.

"How much did you drink?" he asked.

"Quite a few glasses of red," she giggled.

He took her shoes from her hands and pulled out his keys to open the door. Before he has managed to turn the key, Andy slid her hand around his neck and pressed her lips to his. They felt soft and moist and was pleasantly distracting. Sam unlocked the door and they stumbled through the doorway blindly, and Andy slipped off her coat dropping it on the floor as she kicked the door shut behind them. No one bothered to turn on the light, but the room had a soft glow from the street lights outside. Andy had way too much to drink and right now Sam felt way too good to care.

She dragged him closer to her, and pushed his jacket over his shoulders so it landed on the floor next to her coat, and long since abandoned shoes and purse. They continued to kiss passionately and only stopped when the need for air became too great.

"Hey Swarek," Andy whispered. "I missed you tonight."

"Funny you should say that," Sam drawled, as he kissed her jaw. "I missed you too."

"So how did it go?" he asked as Andy pulled his shirt over his head.

She was concentrating on unbuttoning his trousers before she answered. "It was okay. It was a bit uncomfortable at first..."

She stopped mid-sentence as Sam kissed her neck and began to slide the straps of her dress past her shoulders.

Her eyes shut, and she knew that there would be no heavy conversation, at least not now anyway.

"So are you going to show me how much you missed me?" she asks seductively.

"Yes, I am," he laughed. Andy loved his laugh and soaked up the sound of it, as she closed her eyes tightly.

As her dress fell to the floor, Sam scooped her in his arms, and willingly demonstrated how much he missed her. Twice.

….

"You should drink wine more often," Sam droned sleepily some time later.

"Maybe I should," Andy mumbled as she stirred slightly and buried her head into his chest.

"I love you, Sam."

"Hey, what's not to love?" Sam chuckled as he peered down at her.

Putting a thumb under Andy's chin, Sam tipped her mouth towards his. "I love you too, McNally," he whispered as he placed a tender kiss on her lips, sealing their fate.

* * *

><p>He wasn't dead yet. He could tell because of the pain in his chest. He didn't know how long he'd been like this, and as he opened his eyes and shifted his head; he saw Maury asleep in a chair next to his bed, and Priscilla asleep in the far corner. Her hair seemed longer, and maybe a little greyer. <em>How was that even possible? He only had the flu and was taking a nap. Why were they there in his bedroom?<em>

It was then he realised that he wasn't at home in his bedroom; he was in a hospital bed. The sounds of the machines were beginning to annoy him, and he wanted to turn it off but it hurt to move. Nothing made sense. _What was going on?_

He became more aware of a pain in his chest and he groaned as it made its presence known.

Priscilla's eye flew open at the sound and stared wide eyed at her husband.

"Anton?" she whispered. "Anton!" she said louder and started to cry hysterically.

_What? Why is she crying? Has something happened?_

Maury woke up then, whose shocked eyes mirrored his mother's.

"Dad," he croaked. "How do you feel?"

_How do I feel?_

"Like I need a cup of coffee and a cigar," Anton managed to say, before his eyes felt heavy once more and he drifted back into darkness.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN- Sorry for the delay, I hope the length makes up for it. I promise the next chapter will be much quicker. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23: Rude Awakenings.<strong>

"So what happened?" Christopher looked panicked when he saw his aunt and cousin standing in the corridor. "Why is the doctor in there? Is he...has he..." Christopher couldn't even say it.

"It's your uncle. He was awake," Priscilla said shakily as she started to pace up and down.

"Was? Well that's good right?" Christopher looked between the two searching for some sort of answers.

"But now he's not awake." Priscilla dragged her hand through her hair that she had long since abandoned maintaining. It hung loosely and lifelessly in a clip past her shoulders.

Christopher looked bewildered by her words and shook his head in confusion. "But I don't understand? Have you told the others? Let me ring Andy, let her know what's going on too," he rushed, pulling out his cell phone.

"No," Priscilla said in a raised voice that was uncharacteristically stern and authoritative. "Just hold on. Nobody does anything unless I say so."

"But why? She would like to know."

"Because, I need to know what's going on here first. I ... I need to know," she repeated as she sat deflated on one of the hard plastic chairs fixed to the wall.

"Okay," Christopher said slowly throwing Maury a cautionary glance.

"We don't tell anybody; not even Tina or Ryan, and certainly not Andy. We mustn't get my...their hopes up," Priscilla instructed.

She took several long breaths, her eyes not leaving the slightly ajar door. Priscilla hated hospitals; the smell, the sterility and not knowing. The one thing she really hated most about this hospital was the fact that it had her husband's life in the palm of its hand.

Christopher and Maury both sat down on either side of Priscilla, watching the doctors and nurses move around Anton's dormant form, throwing medical jargon and terms at one another.

"He's gonna be alright mom," Maury whispered reassuringly. "He has to be."

* * *

><p>Hours later, Sam and Andy were sleeping soundly in their bed, tangled in several bed sheets. She lay on her right side, with her back against Sam's chest, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. The early morning sunlight that peeked through the curtains into the room signaled the start of another day. Outside, traffic was starting to move, and the city began to wake up. In the comfort of their cosy bedroom, the only thing that could be heard was the deep, contented evenness of their breathing.<p>

Andy woke with a start, her body jerked in the bed. For only a matter of seconds she lay silently, yet alertly. Then she heard the sound again, her cell phone ringing. She glanced toward the small table beside her. The time on the clock informed her that it was 5:35am.

Alert but somewhat confused, she reached out for her phone silently cursing that it was not there. The phone stopped ringing, and just as she was about to go back to sleep, its insistent ringing began once again. She contemplated ignoring it, but worried it was her dad, sat up in bed. Trying not to wake Sam, she slowly walked downstairs into the dark living room stepping through a pile of clothes, as she followed the sound of the tone. The phone stopped ringing, and just as she was in two minds whether to go back to sleep, it chirped, indicating that there was a new voice message. Feeling around blindly on all fours, she found her purse and answered the phone without looking at the caller display. She sunk back on her knees as she listened to the message.

* * *

><p>Anton was lying impossibly still, skin pale, unruly hair. A simple oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth; a small monitor was attached to his finger. All the other devices from earlier had now vanished from the room. Priscilla's eyes scanned him slowly and possessively. She reached out a tentative hand and stroked his cheek, gently. He didn't stir. His skin was warm and his breathing was laboured. Pulling out a comb from her purse, she pulled its teeth through his hair and away from his face. He needed a haircut she thought absent-mindedly. The doctors said that now it was just a case of waiting, that his sudden yet brief consciousness was a positive sign.<p>

Waiting. Priscilla was good at that.

She'd sent Maury and Chris home earlier and sat alone with Anton, her head in her hands as she replayed the whole night over and over again. She almost didn't believe he had spoken to her, if it wasn't for the familiar timbre in his voice. Priscilla felt shattered, but she had to keep it together for the family, she had to be the strong one for all of them. Her back was still throbbing from the numerous nights spent sleeping on the hospital chair and her head felt like it had split in two, but she didn't mind. She would happily welcome the pain if that meant Anton would open his eyes. It had been too long, and she regretted not taking the time to really look at him on that fateful day so many weeks ago when he left to go to the restaurant. Instead she was rushing around trying to get Tina to school on time.

She didn't know how long she'd been waiting in that same position, but she saw the nurse check his vitals twice and she heard the sounds of birds singing at some point. It was definitely a new day, full of new possibilities.

"Cilla..."

She quickly straightened at the sound of his voice, staring closely at his mouth to ensure that her mind was not playing tricks on her. He said her name one more time as the fog disappeared and the hospital room comes into view.

"Anton." Her voice was feeble, and unrecognisable even to herself. Her eyes were raw from emotion but she didn't care, because he was awake and still, very alive.

"Water," he croaked and before he could attempt to straighten, he felt the pain in his chest as if someone was squeezing the air out of his lungs. Priscilla pulled the oxygen mask away from his face and held the cup and straw to his lips. As he slowly drunk the water he took in her appearance. "How bad?" he rasped when he finished drinking.

Priscilla shrugged, and forced a smile that neither one believed, as she tried to hold onto the blinding tears that were threatening to surface again.

Anton's eyes closed briefly, and he inhaled one last time, getting as much oxygen as possible inside him before he spoke again.

"It's okay," he whispered, desperate for her to hear the meaning in those two simple words.

He watched her closely, holding back his own emotion as her shoulders began to tremble. "It's okay," he repeated again, silently urging her to let go. "I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere and I'm okay."

Finally Priscilla relented and gave in to weeks of stress, helplessness, loneliness and confusion; as she wept uncontrollably. All Anton could do was hold her hand and watch helplessly as Priscilla cried.

* * *

><p>Christopher had asked her to lunch, they had agreed last night somewhere between their second dessert and third bottle of wine. Andy was about to text with an excuse when Christopher rang, and had no choice when he told her he was waiting outside. She quickly slipped off her uniform shirt, put away her gun and met him at the entrance.<p>

"No Sam?"

"Nice to see you too," she quipped, with a furrowed brow. "We're working opposite shifts today, but I will see him later as I am working a double shift."

Christopher was relieved by her words, having yet to suss Sam out.

"Is there a reason that foxy blonde is staring at me?"

Andy turned to see Gail's eyes transfixed on Christopher, and tugged him by the arm. "Come on," she added. "That there is a no go area."

...

The little café was crowded during the lunch rush, but they managed to find a small table in the corner. Andy flipped open a menu and half heartedly scanned over the list of items, already knowing what she wanted.

"Are you ready to order?"

Christopher nodded. "I could eat everything on this menu. I'm supposed to be writing an article on some merger between two banks, but I need food to get my creative juices flowing," he laughed, and yawned at the same time.

Andy shook her head and smiled, shutting the menu and ordering when the waiter approached their table. Christopher ordered two mains for himself. After the waiter left, she turned back to Christopher. "Guess you can't think on an empty stomach?"

"It's like a physical impossibility," he mumbled in between bread rolls. "I'm telling you if I don't eat every few hours I start to waste away," he said.

Andy smiled, still getting used to his very lively personality. "So how have you been?"

"Good. You?"

"I'm good too, although I shouldn't be the amount of red wine I had last night."

"I take it that means we won't be ordering another bottle with lunch?" His laugh was so full and contagious, that all Andy could do was join in.

They chatted about mundane things for a while, until Christopher brought up the subject of their uncle.

"Uncle Anton is showing signs of improvement," he simply said.

Andy almost chocked on her lasagne. "He's awake? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Aunty Priscilla. She didn't want us to talk about it, until we were sure. Things are still a bit uncertain, but he woke up last night briefly; like thirty seconds. I was there most of the night, hoping he would wake up again, but he never."

The emotion in his voice was thick and apparent, which overshadowed her own mixed feelings at the news.

"So do you think he's really on the mend?"

"God, I hope so Andy, I miss him like crazy."

The waiter brought their order and for a few minutes it was silent as the hungry siblings ate, and Christopher smiled for no particular reason, looking at Andy. "I like this," he said.

Andy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "What do you like, the steak or the fish?" She grinned staring at his two plates of food.

Christopher chuckled, and looked down at his plate as he continued to attack the Salmon with his fork. "No, that's not what I'm talking about, but the fish is pretty good."

Andy sat back in her seat, drinking from her glass as she appraised her brother. It was strange, scary but also exciting at the same time.

"No but really, I like this. Sitting with my sister, eating and being able to forget things for a little while," he said.

She sat still and looked at him. "Me too," she said quietly.

...

It was a busy double shift, which left little time for Andy to think about her lunch with her brother or her uncle. After finishing the last of her paperwork for the evening, she hurried to the locker room to catch Sam before the start of his night shift. He was still changing when Andy entered, and she stopped for a brief second to give his bare chest an appreciative once over. She looked him up and down twice, holding his gaze a few seconds longer than usual.

"See something you like McNally?"

"Maybe," she smirked.

Andy walked closer and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"How were your shifts?"

"Tiring," Andy replied as she slumped down onto the bench facing to him.

She watched him dress in silence.

"I know it's hard, just remember why you are doing it." He playfully tapped her leg, and sat next to her.

Andy turned to look at him and smiled. It still surprised her that he could so readily understand her thoughts, even when she says very little. It was true, all the extra working was taking its toll on her, and she couldn't remember what it was like to spend a weekend lounging around the house doing nothing.

"Just know that..." Sam whispered and he touched her leg again, "there might be times where I might seem too busy or, I might just be in a serious mood that day." He paused, enjoying the variation in her facial features at his words. "Just know that you can always talk to me, whenever you want. I'm here, Andy."

Andy nodded, and gently squeezed his left bicep in return. "I know. But it's always nice to hear you say it."

Sam's smile was wide and uninhibited as the dimples surfaced on either side of his cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her and she didn't object when he pulled her in and planted a chaste kiss of the top of her head.

"Let's go out tomorrow afternoon, we're both working nights," he suggested. "That is, if you're not too tired."

"Where to?"

"Where's the fun if I tell you McNally?"

Andy rolled her eyes and laughed. "Alright. I'll see you later," she yawned as she went to undress and go home.

* * *

><p>"How's your chest?" Priscilla asked, having heard Anton just a few moments before she'd entered the room.<p>

"Fine," he lied, he was in agony. The doctor said it could take weeks to really recover, but that the medicine would help with the infection. It didn't. He still hadn't slept. He wasn't even sure what time it was. He felt as if his head was full of cotton wool.

"You should start to feel better soon," Priscilla said as she placed a soft hand on his chest. He was boiling and clammy, she sighed softly. "Anton can I open a window or do something for you?"

"No, no I'm good," he reached out and slowly took her hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered, not really sure what he was apologising for, just knowing that she was concerned and he wasn't doing anything to help to ease her mind.

"You don't need to be sorry," she gently cupped his cheek, caressing him, grateful that he was with her. Things could have been so different. Priscilla remembered Wayne calling, asking if she had heard from Anton. They were supposed to meet for lunch but he had not shown and the panic had set it right away. She had rang his cell phone several times, and when he had not answered she knew something was wrong. Anton always answered, even if he was in the middle of a deal. It had been a further six hours before she eventually heard that Anton had been found. He had collapsed and was found slumped against some boxes in the wine cellar of the restaurant. They had been the worst six hours of her life.

"Can I get you anything? Is there anything you need?" she offered, just wanting to make him feel better, and to make herself feel useful once more.

"I just need to sleep," he let go of her hand and sighed.

"Okay, you get some rest, the kids are coming later," she offered, collapsing into her seat without having had a reply. Anton's eyes were already closed, and Priscilla's were not too far behind.

...

That was how the Hill children found them both a few hours later. Asleep.

"Dad!" Tina jumped onto her father's bed.

Anton groaned, yet relished the pain as she burrowed herself into his side.

"Tina." Maury's warning went unheeded as she lay on the pillow next to her father.

"I missed you dad," she said shyly.

"So what did I miss?" Anton took a deep breath of oxygen before he continued to appraise his baby girl. "Have you been behaving?"

Before anyone could answer, Tina reeled off the particulars of her life over the last several weeks.

"Well, I've stopped speaking to Rhianna. She is officially no longer my best friend. She told Edward Millard that I like him. How could she do that dad? And I failed my algebra test, but Miss Jones said I could make it up on account of you being sick but I just didn't revise. How is algebra going to help me when I am a fashion designer or music producer or a model?" she stopped to take a breath before continuing. "Oh, can I get a tattoo?"

"No."

"Dad," she wailed. "Everyone's getting one. I'm almost sixteen, which makes me practically an adult!"

Maury smacked Tina on the back of her head.

"What?" Tina couldn't understand why everyone was staring at her. "What did I say that was so wrong?"

Some things never change.

* * *

><p>The following day after Sam and Andy had a late breakfast, watched early morning television and thumbed through the newspaper, they both got ready for Sam's mysterious outing. All her guessing was no where close to where he had chosen. Sam took Andy to see the fishes and other sea life at the local aquarium. He brought her a hot dog and an ice cream as they wandered about looking at the marine life. Andy felt like a kid again, although she didn't remember ever doing this.<p>

"Wow," Andy murmured as she pressed her nose against the large glass tank. "I've never been to an aquarium before, there are so many fishes."

"Sarah and I used to come here a lot when we were kids," Sam confessed as they walk pass a large shark swimming, and sat on a nearby bench as a group of schoolchildren stared at several tropical fishes. "I was going to be a marine biologist when I was eight, before I decided to be a cop."

"Before Sarah?"

"Yeah, before Sarah," Sam nodded.

"You see those funny looking fishes over there?" Sam pointed at an usual looking small patterned fish.

Andy nodded.

"They're called _Gasterosteus Aculeatus, _otherwise known as a Stickleback fish. They grow to around four inches, don't have any scales and are part of the seahorse family."

Andy sat and listened as she licked her ice cream cone, watching two fishes chase one another in a wild frenzy.

"A walking fish encyclopaedia, a marine biologist. There's a lot about you that I don't know," she mused.

"There's plenty of time to find out," he said almost hesitantly.

"Yeah, there is," Andy smiled, as she offered Sam a lick of her ice cream.

"What about that flat looking one?" Andy pointed to a rather unattractive looking fish.

"That is a Californian Halibut. The Halibut like most flat fish hide under sand or loose gravel and blends into the bottom. Helps protects them from predators."

"Impressive Swarek," Andy teased as she moved closer. "So really, my boyfriend is a secret fish geek."

Sam chuckled. "That's what Sarah used to call me when we were growing up. I guess I am."

They watched a large fish that had two adorable babies swimming close behind. It reminded her of Anton.

"Uncle Anton is improving, Chris told me," Andy finally said.

"Oh. That's gotta be good news for his family." _Damn you Sarah. Always right._

"His vitals are better and he regained consciousness briefly, like a matter of seconds," Andy rambled.

She purposely didn't look at Sam, but he could feel her body tense.

'_Andy's got to feel she can talk to you about anything, even her uncle. Don't shut her down just because you don't like him.'_

"So I guess you'll be visiting."

"No. No I won't," Andy responded as she shook her head.

Sam knew Andy wanted to see Anton but stayed away because of his reservations. If he were to believe Sarah, facilitating that absence was a big no no, and whether Anton survived or not he mustn't influence her decision to see him.

"I think you should go Andy, see for yourself," Sam suggested calmly, wishing Anton were the Halibut, who would bury itself into the sand, disappear from view and out of their lives.

...

Sam had woken up before Andy that morning, and had watched her sleeping peacefully by his side. He wanted Anton Hill behind bars, but for the first time in years he felt like he had something more important to lose. His conversation with Sarah just reinforced this. He closed his eyes for a moment, an image of Andy rising to the surface of his mind. He could feel her warm breath against his throat; and her hand draped against his chest. His heart twisted and he knew he couldn't hurt her. She'd been hurt far too much already throughout her life.

"Damn you Sarah," he whispered, barely believed the words that were coming out of his mouth, as he slipped out of her embrace and made his way to shower.

_'Make sure you and Andy are a tight unit. You've gotta be clever about this Sammy because this uncle is no fool. Don't make her choice an easy one by being a moody jerk.'_

Turning on the water as hot as it would go, his mind began playing various scenarios of how to deal with it, and avoid Sarah's suggestions as he was not particularly thrilled with either of them.

Whichever way he looked at it, if he wanted to be with Andy, he had no choice.

_'Your big sister knows best...'_

It was time to confront his white whale.

* * *

><p>The next few days were busy, and Andy and Sam saw little of one another due to working opposite shifts.<p>

Andy shivered despite herself, pulling her coat closer. She walked quickly, wanting to catch Sam before he started his night shift. As she turned around the corner, she had a sense she was being watched. It was the second time that day, and she swung around quickly but saw no one.

Just as Andy turned to continue her journey home, she relaxed when she saw him.

"What're you doing out here so late Chris?" she asked as they stepped onto the side walk.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, you told me what time you were finishing. I couldn't resist seeing you." He caught her eyes and grinned, while she scoffed.

"I'm no damsel in distress, Chris," she said a little peeved.

"I know. I guess I just wanted to see you too."

The cold air found its way through her coat again, and she couldn't suppress another shiver that ran through her. Coupled with tiredness she was unable to suppress a little irritability.

"I've seen you twice this week. You should have called. I could have had plans."

She turned to look behind suddenly, the hairs on her neck standing on end.

Nothing.

"You should have rang," she relented. After a moment's deliberation, she slid her arm around his to pull him closer. A part of her was uncomfortable being in such close contact with him, but she found herself trying to get closer, to share his warmth and remove the uneasiness she felt in the pit of her stomach.

"Do you want to come to mine? I've got coffee, hot chocolate, cake. And it's nice and warm, Sam would have turned on the heating by now, he's starting his shift soon."

"I should get home," Christopher declined, warm eyes never leaving hers.

"Oh, come on," she prodded. "You've been waiting for me in the cold so a cup of hot chocolate seems like the least that I can do for you."

He grinned, and then finally seemed to give in fairly easily. "You win," he said.

"I always win," Andy responded throwing one last glance over her shoulder at a row of parked cars.

...

They walked quickly to Sam's house in good time. She saw the truck parked outside, so knew Sam was still there. Andy entered the hallway first, and she kicked off her boots, taking Christopher's coat as well as hers, to hang them up.

"Make yourself at home," Andy said as she turned up the thermostat higher. "Is hot chocolate okay?"

"Sure." Christopher rose from the position he'd fallen into on the settee. "Need any help?"

Andy shook her head, and threw him the remote control as she headed into the kitchen to start the hot chocolate. She stood at the stove, stirring the milk in a small pan as it heated. It was one of the most common memories she had from her childhood watching her grandmother, make "real" hot chocolate, as she would call it. She was so far into her memories that she didn't hear Sam enter the kitchen, and slide his arms around her waist; she yelped in surprise.

"Something wrong, McNally?" Sam asked innocently, as he opened the cupboard door above her head and pulled out two mugs.

"I need three mugs," Andy laughed, and Sam pulled out a third with a confused expression.

"We have a guest," she whispered. "It's..." She was cut off by Christopher's voice.

"There's a good movie starting soon, it's a romantic comedy," Christopher said, as he entered the kitchen. He sat in one of the chairs at the table to watch her, before he finally noticed Sam.

"Sam, this is my brother Chris," Andy announced. "Chris, meet my boyfriend Sam."

The two men shook hands, gripping one another firmly, yet calmly as they subtlety assessed one another.

Christopher had always been a bit intimidated by Sam, ever since his uncle had mentioned him a few years ago. Although Sam had a good build and was fit and muscular, he simply was not a big man. He was only five foot nine and that was stretching it. Christopher who was easily over six feet was huge in comparison, not to mention that he was built like a tank. Despite his overwhelming size, Christopher still felt anxious.

Andy filled up Sam's mug first and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"You alright?" she asked, reaching across the counter to touch his hand lightly. He didn't answer, staring into his mug thoughtfully.

"I'm fine," he said unconvincingly, taking a sip of the liquid and wincing as it scalded his tongue. Andy knew he was lying. He must have felt her gaze on his face, because he looked up. "Just tired." His voice sounded tight, he was annoyed.

"Do you mind if I use the wash room?" Christopher stood from where he was seated.

"Sure. Top of the stairs to the right," she answered, throwing Sam a concerned look.

Christopher nodded and excused himself.

...

Sam leaned across the table and took a piece of Andy's chocolate cake. She watched him, without comment, as she filled the remaining two mugs with liquid.

Sam became aware that she was watching him. "What?" he asked, smiling conspicuously around his mouth full.

She grinned at him with that beautiful McNally smile. "Nothing."

He swallowed, wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned closer to her. "Nothing? You're not looking at me like its nothing."

"No really, it's nothing."

He leaned across the counter and pushed the hair behind her ear, and kissed her. "Tell me," he said more softly.

"So you don't mind Chris being here? I should have warned you, he was waiting for me after work. It wasn't planned. I'm sorry."

"No problem McNally. It will be nice to get to know him."

"Really?" She seemed surprised at his comfortable response.

"Yes, Really."

'_Keep you friends close, and enemies closer Sammy. That's the motto you need to stick by. Isn't that what grandpa always said?'_

"I just want you to be happy, Andy," Sam said as he took another piece of cake, and made his way to the living room to wait for Christopher to return.

...

"Andy says you're a journalist," Sam stated as casually as he could muster, as he sat close to her on the settee.

"Yeah," Christopher responded, still wary of the man that almost put his uncle behind bars. However seeing the yearning in Andy's face for Sam and him to get on well, Christopher continued. "I'm just starting out. All that time at university didn't prepare me for how long it took to finally get a proper job."

"Education is the key," Andy piped up.

"Well, training is the key but I guess that's kind of the same," Sam added thoughtfully.

"You think? I spent the majority of my first year wondering what the heck I was doing there. We were made to read loads of books; Hemingway, Wilde, Aristotle, Shakespeare as a way to learn how to express our thoughts in different ways."

"Makes sense. I can see the logic in that. Most of the ideas of great writers are timeless and could be applied to modern times."

"Really?" Christopher's surprise in Sam's proposed insightful comment was apparent, if not a little bit condescending.

Christopher did not mean to sound so presumptuous, it was just Sam didn't strike him as a scholar. He did know Sam that well, but could identify an unrecognisable emotion in his stormy eyes. Sam cleared his throat and began to recite:

'My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education. My life and education both do learn me how to respect you. You are the lord of my duty; I am hitherto your daughter. But here's my husband, and so much duty as my mother showed to you, preferring you before her father, so much I challenge that I may profess due to the Moor my lord.'

Andy's jaw was slightly agape.

"Othello," Christopher murmured.

"One of my favourite books," Sam stated.

"Desdemona's speech. Powerful..." Christopher counter balanced.

"Yet very relevant," Sam said firmly.

"Now I'm probably going to sound like a dummy here," Andy rambled, blissfully unaware of an intellectual literacy duel unfolding before her eyes.

"It was a speech Desdemona gave to her father," Sam commented.

Christopher raised his mug to his mouth and took a long drink, choosing his next words carefully. "Yes. In it she acknowledged that her duty was divided between her husband and him, and not exclusively to one person," Chris said pointedly.

"And what I really liked about Desdemona in this scene is that she was brave and wise enough to stand up to her father and even partially rejects him in public because of her loyalty towards to man she loves." Sam brushed Andy's hair away from her eyes and smiled, which Andy returned brightly and yet obliviously.

"Have some more cake Chris," Andy offered.

"Sure," Christopher replied, never moving his gaze from Sam's.

...

An hour later, Sam got ready to leave for work.

"I've got some errands to run after shift, so I'll be back later in the morning," Sam said as he pulled on his jacket.

"I'm working half an extra morning shift tomorrow. Purely paper work."

"Well just make sure you eat properly."

"I will."

Sam kissed her quickly and nodded at Chris before hurrying out the house.

Sam Swarek. A tongue twister, not to repeated several times when drunk, Christopher mused. Sam and Andy. A strange bond. Him so serious...her so...so Andy. He wasn't quite sure what to make of him. He was clearly highly intelligent and loved his sister.

Just like him.

...

Christopher did not leave straight away, and time stood still.

Christopher had told her about the break up with his long term girlfriend, and Andy spoke about her and Sam's friendship before they became an item. They animatedly discussed more light hearted things such as Tina's diva qualities and the actual possibility that she could become a celebrity with her own reality show, as well as Ryan's obsession with sport.

He is unsure when they agreed he should stay the night; possibly when the Chinese food arrived, or when they started to watch another movie. It felt comfortable and easy as if he were with his cousins. Everything about the moment felt right.

"So, are you going to see Uncle Anton?" Christopher asks curiously. "I noticed you didn't ask about him and it's been a few days."

"No. But you can let me know how he's doing," she said as she poked at a piece of chicken with her chopsticks.

"I could..."

She slowly rested back against the settee, side glanced at her brother but said nothing.

"He'll be in for a couple more weeks, so maybe you could find a few minutes." he continued.

"Yeah, maybe," she said softly.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Sam sat in his parked truck watching the hospital entrance. He'd been there for the best part of an hour, just watching the automatic doors open and close as people passed through. He had played the scenario over in his head several times, and each time he felt more unimpressed with the prospect of it all. Sarah was right but putting Sam and Anton in a room together was like putting a match next too a gas cylinder.<p>

Sucking up his reservations, Sam exited the truck and made his way towards the entrance.

...

It was the silhouette of his shadow in the doorway that drew Anton and Priscilla to his presence.

"What can I do for you?" Anton asked, studying Sam steadily.

His nose and mouth were obscured by the oxygen mask, but his eyes were lucid and clear. Still defiant, his eyes were unwavering as he waiting for an answer.

"Do you want something to drink Sam?" Priscilla asked, with a tight smile. She looked at her husband nervously for guidance who simply nodded in response. "I'll get us all some coffee." She quickly moved pass Sam and down the hallway before he could respond.

Anton removed his mask. "So? I don't have all day."

Sam stood steadily in the doorway watching Anton, who he had to admit looked bad.

Anton took a swallow of his water, replaced the cup and nodded.

"Well take a seat. You've clearly got something to say. So say it."

"I'll stand if that's alright with you."

"Suit yourself," Anton shrugged as he replaced his oxygen mask and turned his head to face the television.

...

After a while Anton asked casually, "Is this a social visit?"

"Look, I'm not going to pretend to like you," Sam began, already irritated.

"I'm not even going to pretend. I don't like you," Anton responded bluntly.

"Why? Because I almost took you down?" Sam knew he shouldn't antagonise him, but the temptation was hard to resist.

"No, I don't like you because you are weak and used friendship as a guise to dupe me."

Sam wasn't expecting that response, and closed his mouth from his next retort as a look of confusion passed across his face.

"Real men don't play games Swarek. That makes them little boys."

Priscilla returned with two cups of coffee.

"None for you Anton," she shushed as she handed one to Sam and kept the second for herself, and took a seat on the opposite side of the bed.

"You can't have any, it's no good for you," she chided. "Don't even ask because I'll say no."

"Hmmph," Anton replied.

"Hmmph to you too."

Sam sipped his coffee, watching the two interact. It was strange to see, yet everything from the moment he walked into the room was strange and threw him off his game. For a split second he had forgotten what he was there for as he took the opportunity to collect his thoughts.

"How are you Sam? Don't just stand; take a seat," Priscilla said graciously.

"I'm well, Mrs Hill," Sam replied as he sat down on the empty chair, feeling completely out of his depth.

"Priscilla, please."

She watched his features closely, trying to ascertain why he was there and suddenly she was filled with a sense of foreboding. "Take off your shirt," she said abruptly as she put her cup down on the floor.

"Excuse me?" Sam was taken aback by her outburst.

"I said take off your shirt." She rose to her feet, crossed the room and began to claw at his buttons. "Are you wearing a wire? Is this what this is about? Trying to catch Anton out while he's down." She didn't know what possessed her except a strong need to protect her territory.

"I'm not wearing a wire. I came here to talk." He unbuttoned his shirt and showed Priscilla his bare chest to demonstrate his point.

"About what? What could you and my husband possibly have to talk about?"

"Andy."

Anton gestured with his hand for Priscilla to take a seat, as he and his wife watched Sam. Anton removed his oxygen mask from his face before he spoke.

"Why do you want to talk to me about my niece?"

"Because we need to find a way to get on."

"What do you want to be my friend?" Anton mocked. "Close the door behind you Swarek." He placed the oxygen mask back onto his face, and turned towards the television once more.

_'And you mustn't rise to the bait, Sam. The more you fight against him makes you look the bad one in Andy's eyes.'_

"I don't want to be your friend Hill, but I'm prepared to act civil towards you for Andy's sake."

"Why? Is she starting to see sense? She was always a smart kid, probably realised that you just aren't worth the bother." He continued to stare at the television, dismissing Sam's presence.

"Anton," Priscilla warned.

"Don't reduce what we have to nothing, you don't know the first thing about our relationship," Sam whispered fiercely back at him, causing Anton to meet his gaze again, and remove his mask which Sam noted seemed to be a prelude to a cutting remark.

"I know Andy in ways you never could."

"What just because you knew her as a kid? She's a grown woman now who knows the difference between right and wrong."

"Yes you're right about that... but she always did know the difference. What exactly did you think we were teaching her, how to smoke her first crack pipe? Why do you think me and her are able to communicate after all these years?" He didn't wait for an answer and continued. "She hasn't changed one little bit, and I can read her well. She is a Hill after all." Anton stopped to take a breath. "You can paint your relationship with her as a walk in the park but I know it isn't."

"You don't know anything," Sam hissed, already regretting his decision to come there.

"Ah, you misunderstand me. I'm not criticising your relationship really. Women are a curse and a blessing. Mostly a blessing," he added, glancing at Priscilla, who was listening to the conversation unfold. "All I'm saying is that relationships are never plain sailing, and those who disagree are delusional or a liar."

Anton gazed out his window and said nothing having said much more than he normally would to Sam. No one spoke and the occasional bursts of noise and chatter could be heard from the corridors, along with his Anton's heavy breathing.

After another few minutes, Anton spoke, his voice low and hesitant, "You've got the whole thing wrong."

"Explain it to me then." Sam turned to face him; not at all sure he wanted to hear any of this.

"I don't need to explain it to you. I don't owe you a thing, you're not family."

"Fine. Let's drop it," Priscilla interrupted as she swallowed the rest of her coffee in one gulp and wished that the earth could swallow her with equal ease. She didn't want to hear the discussion any longer, suspecting it was heading into uncharted territory on her part. "Sam, my husband needs to rest."

"Have you always been so self righteous?" Anton questioned in all seriousness, interrupting Priscilla as if she hadn't spoken.

Sam scoffed. "You want to discuss rights and wrongs with me?"

"Just as I thought...too up your own ass to understand real life."

Looking at Sam closely, Anton leaned back once more into his pillow. He was tired and had exerted himself.

"If you want to know something about me then ask. Stop presuming to know me, or make judgements on things you don't have the facts on. All your surveillance and police reports and you still don't have a clue."

Against his will Anton closed his eyes, hoping Sam would be gone by the time he woke. Stupid man; what Andy saw in that little runt he would never understand.

...

Anton was unsure how long he had been sleeping, but as he opened his eyes he saw the welcoming image of Priscilla. She was sitting contently completing a cross-stitch as the sound of the television played in the background. He blinked several times, and groaned louder than he anticipated when he saw Sam still sitting by his bed.

"What are you still doing here?"

"I've got some questions I'd like to ask."

Priscilla inwardly sighed.

"What's the deal with you and Andy?"

No answer.

"Why did you wait for so long before you contacted her?"

Anton scoffed, but did not reply.

"Do you realise that you are unsettling her? She doesn't need fancy cars or a gangster lifestyle. She needs stability and simplicity."

"Do you know what my dad did for a living?" Anton asked, looking directly at Sam, choosing to supply his own questions.

"No." _'Don't try and be clever when you talk to her uncle, keep it simple.'_

"Well your research is a bit lousy," he grumbled clearly annoyed.

"Save your energy Anton," Priscilla whispered, glancing up momentarily.

"He worked as a janitor, in one of those fancy high rise business blocks in the city. Every overtime he got, he took to make ends meet. But it was never enough."

His eyes fluttered close, and Sam attempted to shift.

"He and my mother left Ireland for a better life and I gotta say Canada turned out to be one big fat disappointment. My mum had dreams of opening up a boutique, selling her custom designed gowns. She made all of my sisters outfits for the beauty pageants. Evening wear, swim wear, casual wear; it was probably one of the few things that made her happy." He stifled his sad smile as he mused over the thought. "In the end she washed people's clothes in a laundry. Dad wanted to be a carpenter, he was talented and could make anything he put his mind to, but the work wasn't coming, so he took the job as a janitor. Thirty years he spent in that job. Mom missed home terribly, and after my dad died I became the head of the home. You know why I first got into drugs?"

Sam sat still listening, knowing now was not the time to answer.

"It was to pay the bills, but it was also for her. The first real cash I made, I didn't buy a fancy car or party all night. I paid for a one way ticket for her to go back home to Ireland."

* * *

><p>Andy arrived back from work that afternoon, expecting to see Sam. She missed him by the time she had arrived at fifteen and was stuck filing reports all morning in the basement where her phone could not pick up a signal. She realised he wasn't back yet, as the drive was truck free. She went to take a shower and removed her make-up as she waited for the water to heat up. She was startled when her cell started to ring from the pocket of her jeans that were piled up with her other clothes on the bathroom floor.<p>

Seeing Sam's name flash across the screen, she connected the call quickly and with a hurried breath, hoping to catch him before he hung up called out, "Sam, I'm so sorry. I'm here. Just got in."

"Yeah sounds like. How are you doing?"

"Good. I thought you'd already be home. Still running errands?"

Sam took in a deep breath. "I'm just finishing up where I am but I might be a little while longer. Maybe an hour or two."

"Okay, well, I'll see you in a few hours. Later alligator!"

Sam chuckled. "In a while crocodile."

He disconnected the call and made his way back into Anton's room. Priscilla looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're persistent Sam, I'll give you that," she said quietly as she handed him one of her magazines.

Sam frowned at her copy of 'Womans Weekly.'

"Get comfortable, he doesn't stay awake very long...it will give you and I a chance to get acquainted."

Sam sat down and began to thumb through the magazine, finally stopping on an article that didn't consist of diet tips and home baking recipes.

"I'm doing this to make things right," Sam muttered.

"That's what Anton's trying to do too," Priscilla defended.

"So why won't he answer my questions?"

"Ask him," she responded sarcastically.

* * *

><p>Exhaustion had taken over as Andy lay in a deep contented sleep on the settee. It was interrupted by a rattling noise and her eyes fluttered several times before fully opening. Andy lay still on her stomach, in the dimly lit room, wondering how long he would persist. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. 3:00 pm. The rattling went on, steady, with intermittent pauses. She sighed and rolled on her back, stretching her limbs. Swinging her legs over the side of the settee. She looked down at her T-shirt and worn sleep pants, wondering if she should change. She hoped Sam was alone.<p>

He has lost his keys or she had locked him out. There was no other explanation.

The rattling sounded became much louder. "Coming, coming," she mumbled, bleary eyes as she started to trot towards the door.

She leaned heavily against the door frame, her hand resting lightly on the security chain, and keyed in the number for the security alarm.

Her hand, fiddled with the security chain. Sam must have heard it, because the rattling stopped.

"The key goes through the keyhole Sam," she teased. "Have you been drinking?"

She opened the door widely, expecting to see Sam.

There was no one there.

...


	24. Chapter 24

**AN- Thanking you all for the reviews and theories; it's interesting to see the things you guys are picking up on when trying to work out where you think this story is going. There's actually not many more chapters left:(**

**Please excuse any typos. I must confess I was editing this chapter on a busy train to Scotland!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24: Chasing Ghosts.<strong>

Andy was confused as she stood in the doorway. There was no one there as she stepped out onto the porch. Did she just imagine it?

The weather was quite chilly and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to keep warm. Andy narrowed her eyelids as she surveyed the surrounding area, expecting to see the back of a delivery driver or neighbour. From where she was standing she could see the drive was empty. Sam definitely had not arrived back, so someone else had been at the door. Her eyes continued to scan the street yet there was no one. Maybe she dreamt it, but the feeling in her gut told her otherwise. Overcome by an overwhelming sense of fear Andy hurried back inside the house, locking the door firmly behind her.

She sat tense on the armrest of the settee, staring at the door. Exhausted but unnerved enough not to go back to sleep, she waited for Sam to return home.

* * *

><p>"Let's talk about Emily," Sam started as soon as Anton's eyes opened.<p>

"Let's not," Anton said firmly, squinting at the harshness of the lights.

"Why not?"

"Because that has nothing to do with Andy, which is why you are here, right?"

"I disagree. You do realise she was there that time at the restaurant, and it didn't show you in a good light."

Priscilla stared at her husband, torn between wanting to hear the story and sticking her fingers in both ears.

"I know Andy was there; she already told me," Anton said smugly. "Emily was an unfortunate situation, but all's well that ends well."

Sam shook his head, visibly frustrated and annoyed. Apparently, having had enough of whatever the grey-haired man was saying, or rather not saying.

"Don't give me that shit," Sam raised his voice, suddenly angry after going against his own personal judgement to be there. He stupidly thought Anton had felt the importance of their discussion too, but he was obviously wrong. Anton didn't seem bothered at all, and that made Sam mad.

"You should go, Sam." Priscilla stood up, sensing the discussion would erupt like a volcano.

"I can't go, don't you get it? When I'm with Andy...I'm trying to do the right thing, and him..." Sam was shouting, as he pointed at Anton, "Is hell bent on standing in the way!"

"The right thing?" Anton cut Sam off with that infamous laugh of his. "What is the right thing, and who gets to decide? You? Me? Andy? Does all that even matter any more? Things have gone too far for that. If you're looking for me to roll over, act like a puppy and have you rub my belly, you're sorely mistaken."

"Don't tell me how I feel," Sam warned through gritted teeth, as he felt the calm exterior he was trying to maintain rapidly slip away.

"Why not? You seem to think you know me," Anton remarked.

"Stop! just stop!" Priscilla waved her arms around frantically. "Stop arguing! Please," she begged.

"This is pointless," Sam huffed as he threw his arms up in the air and left the room.

"So... that went well," Anton said sarcastically, chuckling to himself.

"Anton," Priscilla chided. "What did you gain from behaving like that?"

"It got rid of him didn't it? Trying to be my friend," Anton spat. "I think not."

* * *

><p>Sam flicked on the light, paused and eyed Andy cautiously as he entered the house some thirty minutes later. Tossing his work bag on the floor, he came over and stood beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder.<p>

"Hey... everything okay? Why are you sitting in the dark? Did I forget to pay the bill?" He laughed at his own joke, causing the dimples Andy loved so much to appear.

Andy closed her eyes for a split second, letting out the breath she had been holding. She did not know how she was supposed to explain that she had a feeling someone was watching her without sounding like a lunatic.

"I don't know," she said unsteadily. "I keep feeling things, hearing things..."

"Like what?" He took off his jacket and draped it onto the back of the settee, as he sat near to her.

"I feel like someone is watching me."

Sam's eyes widened a bit in shock at her words, but said nothing. He continued to watch her carefully, he could tell she was shaken.

His hand made contact with her back and stilled. When he lightly rubbed a hand up and down in reassuring strokes she relaxed, eyes closing against the conflicting emotions that stirred inside of her.

Andy rubbed her temples feeling the start of a migraine forming. Sam quietly got up to fetch a glass of water and some aspirin.

"Here," he said gently.

"Thanks," she replied before popping the pills into her mouth and washing it down with the water.

"So, do you wanna start from the beginning?"

"I heard a noise at the front door, and I thought you were trying to come in..." Andy stopped to take another sip of water. "But when I went to open the door there was no one there." She shook her head and blushed, feeling embarrassed by her own story.

Sam considered her words carefully before he responded. "You're tired that's all. I think maybe you need to lay off the overtime, get some proper rest," he concluded.

Andy nodded and chewed her bottom lip as her eyes darted towards the front door.

"Can you just...check, just to be sure?" She shook her head, "I'm being silly just forget it."

"If it will make you feel better then I'll check, okay?" Sam rose to his feet and checked the windows as well as the door. "See. There's nothing wrong, everything's intact."

"You must think I've lost my mind," Andy sighed.

"I think you're exhausted. I'm ringing Frank, I don't think you should work this evening. Let's both have an early night. It's been a long day," he sighed loudly.

Andy paused briefly, struck by the tone in his voice. "I'm fine, Sam. I need to work that shift."

In reality, she was far from fine. She was exhausted and her body needed rest. She stood quickly, only to find herself seated again, Sam gripping her elbow to steady her.

"You are not working tonight, Andy," he said firmly. "So are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?"

She wanted to ask Sam what was wrong, she could sense it, but her tongue wouldn't co-operate. Too tired to argue, Andy sighed and nodded as she allowed him to lead her upstairs to the bedroom.

...

They both lay on the bed as Sam stroked her hair soothingly. Caught between a place of unconsciousness and alertness, the atmosphere was lulling. Sam had slipped off his socks and shoes and was lying on top of the covers, having pulled Andy closer to his side.

"You're quiet today," Andy murmured, casually.

He shrugged. "Long day," Sam confessed, as he looked at her.

"Okay," Andy simply replied. Her tone of voice sounded dubious but Sam was glad she didn't push the issue even though they both knew he had been gone for several hours. Sam kissed her forehead in reassurance.

"You sure you're okay?" Andy tilted her head upwards to look at him better.

"Yes," Sam replied. "I'm fine."

"And we'll talk about whatever is bothering you, some time soon?"

_Sam wondered when Andy got so good at reading him._

"Yeah, we will. I promise."

Contented with his answer, Andy snuggled up closer to his warmth and fell asleep.

...

They both slept straight through until the following morning. By the time Andy had woken, Sam's side of the bed was empty. Her headache from the previous night was still present but was now reduced to an annoying dull ache in her left temple. She closed her eyes, before willing herself to move and went to the bathroom to shower. Enjoying the feeling as the hot water cascaded over her tired limbs, she hummed to herself, feeling more rested. She threw on a clean shirt and padded down to the living room.

"Morning," she said loudly as she flopped onto the settee.

"You look better now you've had a shower," Sam remarked whilst setting down a cup of tea along with two slices of buttered toast on the coffee table in front of her. He took his own cup of coffee and settled down into the settee in the opposite corner.

"Yeah I do," Andy agreed, placing some wet strands of hair behind her ears. "I feel like a new person."

Andy took a small sip of tea and stretched out her legs as she sunk back into the cushions.

"I really don't want to go to work tonight Sam," she whimpered.

He took a slice of toast and chewed thoughtfully. "Okay," Sam agreed unequivocally. "Take a personal day off and get some rest."

"You don't think it's wrong? I don't want people to think I'm unreliable."

"Listen Andy, you're no good to anyone if you are tired. You need to be alert in this job. Take the day off, you've earned it."

Andy placed her legs on his lap and smiled. "Yeah, you're right." She finished drinking her tea, and within a few minutes she had fallen back asleep.

* * *

><p>Andy awoke a few hours later to the sound of her cell phone ringing. Looking around for Sam, she vaguely remembered him saying something about putting up a shelf for Oliver and being back in a few hours. She reached for the phone.<p>

"Hello."

Softly and hesitantly a raspy voice connects them. "Hey kid."

She recognised the voice straight away. "Um. Hi Uncle Anton." A small smile formed on her face before turning into something more serious.

Anton sighed discontentedly at her greeting. He had missed her everyday. He was struggling to express this and every word seemed inconsequential when he eventually tried.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing okay," Andy replied.

"I got your phone number from Chris," Anton explained. "Did I wake you? You sound tired."

"No."

"Which one is it? Waking you or being tired?"

"Waking me. I'm awake. Just resting."

Anton cleared his throat. Because Anton Hill was a man that refused to ask for anything. He was tempted to hang up the call, but decided that was more pathetic than actually admitting he was missing her.

"Come and see me, Andy," he breathed. "Please."

Andy opened her mouth a few times, wanting to explain why that wasn't such a good idea. She had a list of reasons in her head, but they all sounded feeble.

"Okay," she answered instead.

...

Andy took a bus to the hospital. Having had those precious extra hours sleep, she felt more energised. She felt relaxed walking to the bus stop, and the feeling of being watched became a distant memory. By the time she arrived at the hospital, the only thing on her mind was seeing Anton.

...

She hovered in the doorway of his room before she stepped forward and reached out, taking his hands in hers.

Anton was still for a moment, unable to hide the delight in his eyes at seeing her. He thought for a moment that she finally understood, and saw what he was too scared to say. For a moment, he was elated that she felt the same way, after all she was there to see him.

Andy pulled a hand away and placed it on Anton's forehead. "Your fever has definitely gone down. And you look like you've gotten most of your colour back," she said as she subconsciously ran the same hand down and through his hair. Realising the tactility of her actions, Andy smiled awkwardly as she removed her hand.

"I'm glad you're getting better, I really am," she said softly.

Anton looked into her eyes and saw her raw sincerity and fear, but he also saw his future dreams and aspirations. Andy defined everything he wanted his children to achieve in life. Success. Strength. Respect. Empathy. And love, most definitely love.

He had already made his decision several days ago and he had been good with it. He'd only confided in Priscilla initially who supported him whole heartedly. He had been strong in his decision when he told Carlos, Jimmy and Wayne. Carlos and Wayne seemed pleasantly surprised, and Jimmy had concerns which he expected. Anton had yet to tell the others.

"I'm leaving the game kid."

"What do you mean leaving the game?"

"Leaving the life. I'm going to focus on running the restaurant, and be a regular dad and uncle. I'm just ironing out a few details, but my heart isn't in this no more."

"Wow. I guess I always thought..." Andy sat on the edge of his bed slightly dazed. "Wow," she said again.

"I started all this because I had no other opportunities as a young man, but now I do. You kids have so many options and that I am grateful for."

He closed his eyes, continuing to talk.

"I dreamt of Maurice a few days ago. Your grandmother would have said that was a sign. She was a big believer in signs. I think she may have been right."

"What was it about? This dream?" Everytime Anton started a story, she was mesmerised; however random the subject matter.

"Something and nothing. We were in a little café, just the three of us. You were running around like always and Maurice just sat and stared at me; never said a single word the whole time. He just watched me expressionless except for one single nod."

"So you just gonna give it all up because of a dream?" The scepticism in her voice was obvious, but Anton seemed blissfully happy.

"I have all I need kid; especially now," he smiled. "Can you keep a secret?"

_Can I keep a secret? She almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Her whole life was about secrets._

Anton was quiet for a moment before he reached out and gently tugged at her chin, turning her head so that she was facing him.

"I'll always consider you my first born," he whispered. "When we took you to live with us, I had to learnt to change diapers, mix formula and basically not injure you. By the time Maury came along, I was already prepared for my role as a father."

Andy smiled widely; she always found pleasure in hearing these snippets of her early life.

"Looking after a seven month old baby was hard, and you were by my side everyday until you were five years and one month. Teething, stomach aches, grazed knees, headaches and flu's. No matter what anyone says to you about me, that counts for something."

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "The um." He cleared his throat and started again, "The main reason I wanted to keep Swarek away from you… was because I wanted a fresh start with you. I didn't want you to hear about all my mistakes and failings through him because they're one sided. I may have made some bad choices over the years but believe me you were not one of them."

"I wouldn't change my opinion about you, Uncle Anton," she told him. "You know that. It's like I knew you before I even met you." Even to her own ears that sounded cheesy, but it was the truth.

Andy stretched her arms out towards him and readjusted his oxygen mask, feeling the need to do something with her hands. "I'd defend you. I'd tell them about you... what I remember. I'd tell them how wrong they were because I remember a lot of things."

His smile was genuine but sad. "Well they're not quite wrong about everything. Some of it is true."

They sat silent with one another for a short while longer, allowing the heaviness of his last sentence to hang in the air.

"I know you have your own life kid. I know you have priorities...that Swarek is a priority and your father. I'd just like to know how you're doing every once in a while. The odd phone call or Christmas card will do, nothing big. But if it's too much, I'll understand. Just stick with your brother, get to know him more. That's all I really want."

Andy didn't say anything for a few moments, so he finally turned to look at her. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes and reached over and squeezed her fingers.

The moment was interrupted by Tina, who unceremoniously dropped her school bag and blazer on an empty chair.

She climbed onto the bed, laying next to her father, nudging him over to create more space for herself.

"Hi Dad. Andy." She kissed him and took the remote from his table. "Mom is on her way, she's trying to find an empty parking space. I couldn't wait, my favourite show is starting."

She kept her eyes glued to the television and only moved them to unwrap a chocolate, lift up Anton's mask and pop it into his mouth.

"Here." Tina said, handing Andy a piece of candy, any previous animosity suddenly forgotten. "Seeing as you are now part of the family..."

"Now part of the family?" Andy arched an eyebrow. "I think you'll find I was the original member," she added sarcastically.

Tina rolled her eyes dramatically whilst Anton chuckled. His blue eyes deep with humour, softness and ease. It made Andy wonder why only those close to him got to see him stripped bare this way. Shaking her head, Andy rose to leave, and Anton patted the small space next to him.

"Stay a little while longer," he suggested, as he rested his hand on hers.

Andy nodded, and they all sat watching the rest of the programme in a comfortable silence, listening to Tina's commentary every so often. By the time it had finished, Anton had fallen asleep, with one arm draped around Tina and the other hand nestled on top of Andy's.

* * *

><p>A Friday night at the Black Penny is always crowded. The bar and the two pool tables were packed with cops, including Andy who was enjoying a few drinks with her friends. She was not staying long having scheduled a call with her dad in a couple of hours, but decided to stay rather than shying away.<p>

"So..." Gail asked, "What's with all the extra hours you've been working?"

"Don't hold back Gail," Traci said sarcastically, although admittedly she wanted to know too.

"I don't intend to," Gail retorted.

"I need the money," Andy replied honestly, sipping her beer.

"You don't have to explain it, Andy," Traci said sweetly. "Peck is just being nosey."

"It's okay Trace. I'm paying for my dad to have some extra therapy. He's trying really hard and I want him to succeed this time. He's doing really well," she said proudly, refusing to be embarrassed by the hard work they had both put in.

"Well if it was my mom, I'd let the old witch croak," Gail slurred, sipping on her fourth Martini.

They all laughed at her wicked sense of humour, including Andy. "Gail," she warned. They had been getting on much better recently.

"Well, it's true," Gail laughed brassily. "But seriously, it's a good thing you're doing Andy, I'll give you that."

Traci almost spat out her wine. "Was that actually a compliment?"

"No, merely a observation," Gail replied dismissively, not wanting to appear too interested.

She popped an Olive into her mouth, her red lips pursed together.

"And what about that hot guy I saw you with last week? Does Swarek know you have lunchtime liaisons with men that are very tall, very solid and handsome?"

"Sam doesn't mind. Why does it bother you?"

"Oh it doesn't bother me, just another observation," she said casually.

Andy could feel Gail's eyes probing for more details, but Andy remained composed. Details surrounding her and Chris were strictly on a need to know basis.

" Well...to observations," Traci declared, holding up her wine glass in salutation. This caused her and Andy to burst into fits of laughter.

…

Andy sat in silence for the majority of the night, drinking her beer slowly, and enjoying their company. When it was time to leave she said goodbye, and made her way over to Sam, who was laughing loudly with Oliver at something Jerry had said. Not wanting to miss the end of Jerry's tale, Sam decided to stay a little longer and gave Andy the keys to his truck.

"Don't worry McNally," Oliver teased, "I will get Sammy home in one piece."

"I'm sure," Andy Laughed, hooking the key on her finger.

"Text me when you get home?"

"Yep. I'm gonna pop to my place first, grab a few things. I'll see you later."

Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she left the bar.

* * *

><p>Andy was exhausted. Another day at the station behind her, and her one beer at the penny made her long for her comfy pyjamas and a movie. She wearily exited the truck in front of her apartment building and looked up with a sigh. Living on the fifth floor didn't seem so appealing if the elevator was still out of order. She was relieved to find it was working.<p>

...

Andy stepped out of the elevator and immediately felt goosebumps on the back of her neck. She looked expectantly down the hallway, certain she wasn't alone in the quiet long fifth floor hallway. Pushing the feeling of paranoia away, Andy dug into her coat pocket for her keys. And then she felt it again, but much stronger this time and she swung around suddenly.

Nobody was there.

Taking a deep breath and shaking the fear from her head, she turned and once again began walking toward her apartment door. Her hand shook as she placed the key into the lock. She couldn't open and rush into the dark apartment fast enough, locking the door behind her.

Her cellphone began to ring, and throwing her bag and keys onto the side table, Andy grabbed the phone from out of her bag and connected the call.

"Hi Chris, can I call you back?" She spoke distractedly as she leaned back against the wall searching the shadows of her small apartment in front of her. Andy wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but she felt uneasy. She was breathing heavily and felt her heart rate beating fast and hard in her chest. She could hear Chris talking, but she was having trouble concentrating on his words.

"Hmm? Sorry... Yes I'm just at my apartment...I'm fine. We'll talk later."

Andy didn't even wait for Chris to say goodbye before she hung up the call. Finally when she deemed nothing wrong, she pushed herself off and away from the wall towards the lamp in the corner of the room and switched it on. Once it lit the living room she immediately felt at ease, and felt her heart finally begin to settle. She slipped off her coat and then headed back to her bedroom. She needed to get some clothes, collect any mail and go back to Sam's.

Andy knew she was over tired. She knew she had been functioning on minimal sleep, and logically her mind was playing tricks on her.

She threw some extra clothes into a bag, and was rummaging through her jewellery box when she heard a soft rustling in the living room. Immediately she tensed, as she heard the sound again.

As quietly as possible she walked out into the living room, grabbing a large vase on the way. Nothing could have prepared her for a man standing in her apartment staring at a picture of her and Tommy in a photo frame.

Andy gasped, which caused the man to turn and stare at her, a small smile creeping on his face. He didn't look surprised and that set off alarms in the recesses of her mind but she was too full of rage to consider that important fact. Before Andy could stop herself she launched herself across the room and struck the stranger in the face with the vase. The impact caused it to shatter, but the man was still standing, almost relishing in the pain.

They struggled, and the adrenaline rushing through her body had stopped her from feeling any pain as her head was slammed against the wall in all the commotion. Andy was defending herself surprisingly well, and struck him again, causing his lip to split and bleed.

But then things went wrong, and he hit her back for the first time around the jaw, causing her to stumble and fall. She tasted blood.

The man stood over her, pushing her face down into the ground as he pushed his knee harshly into her spine. He grabbed a handful of her brown hair in each hand, gripping tightly before yanking upwards. He bends her neck back violently, and now she was scared.

Andy wriggled from his grip and somehow managed to turn herself onto her back. That was when she really got a good look at him. He was of average height, average weight, although he felt heavier than Sam. His black hair was heavily gelled and pulled back into a ponytail and he was slightly tanned. Overall, there wasn't much to go on at that point. She tried to memorise his features anyway, certain he would rape her, and if that were the case she needed as much evidence as possible. Suddenly she panicked. Sam couldn't find her like that, and it was that thought that gave her a second wind. Turning away from him Andy managed to free a leg and kick him in firmly the crotch.

Now the stranger was surprised but tightened his grip as he groaned in pain.

"Bitch! You are going to pay for that."

He roughly manoeuvred her wrists behind her head crossing them, and resting them behind the back of her head. He was breathing heavy. "Do I have to hurt you? I'm trying to be nice about this."

He slapped her twice across the cheek in annoyance. Andy was unable to catch a breath and as her vision began to spin, she lay her head back down on the makeshift pillow of his hands. He watched her closely, and his interest was piqued but not enough to fool around with her. He wasn't there for that.

"So you like it rough? Is this what your man likes? He doesn't strike me as the kinky type." His breath smelt of beer, and his voice was husky. He sounded South American, and as he grinned she saw a gold tooth, with a single diamond in its centre.

"Just take what you want and go," she pleaded.

The mystery man shook his head with amusement and laughed, as if Andy had told him the funniest thing ever.

"I have what I want. Right here," he replied, nodding his head in her direction.

He smelt her hair, inhaling deeply. "Mmm señorita ...you smell like... vanilla and cinnamon," he whispered against the crook of her neck.

Andy closed her eyes and tried to pull her wrists out of his grip, but he had them locked in his hands and his body pressed firmly against her stomach.

"I don't think so señorita," he smirked as she fought under his grasp. "Tómalo con calma. Relax. Just let yourself feel my words. I have a message."

Leaning his mouth closer towards her ear, he spoke. Sure and certain words that were full of malice and definite intent.

Just like that the mysterious man let her go, and calmly walked towards the door, stopping to reiterate his point.

"You make sure you pass on that message, or I will be back."

"You tell him," Andy managed to reply, but the man disregarded her request.

"Here's the thing señorita...If he doesn't comply, then I will definitely be coming back for you." His tone was eerily calm and certain.

He walked out of the door without giving her a second glance.

Andy lay still, unmoving as she processed what had just occurred. Her bag had fallen on the floor in the tussle, and she grabbed her phone. She didn't know whether to call the police or Sam. Her fingers shakily pressed the keypad as she scrolled through her phone to locate a number.

* * *

><p>It was dark and the floor felt hard. She doesn't feel the cold seep through her shirt because she was already numb. Her mind has shut down, her jaw ached. There was no way in hell she was moving without help.<p>

Andy heard footsteps outside her apartment door, they were hurried but suddenly stopped. She prayed to God that the man with the gold tooth hadn't returned. She attempted to move herself to the side, but couldn't seem to get the momentum. She propped herself up on the back of her elbows, and despite her obvious pain was ready to dig deep into her reserve and fight again. The door handle rattled rapidly and opened without resistance.

And he's standing there, and she felt so relieved by his presence that she wanted to cry. And she does.

"Andy." Christopher bent over her worried. "I got here as soon as I could."

He stared at the broken shards of glass of the floor, and her bag and it's contents scattered around. "What happened?"

He knelt by her side, visually assessing the damage, before pulling out his phone. "I'm going to call the police."

Andy shook her head. "No."

"Okay. I'll call Sam. What's his number?"

"No, Chris."

"So what do you want me to do? I just can't leave you here. I'll take you to the Emergency Room."

Andy lay back down, taking several deep breaths. "Call Uncle Anton for me. Tell him...tell him that I have a message for him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2-You may want to read the next chapter...<strong>


	25. Chapter 25

**AN- What can I say? I started editing this chapter and before I knew it, I had completely re-written the whole darn thing! Although it is definitely for the better, it meant a longer wait for an update. The next chapter is basically done too, and just needs a final read through.**

**I'm dedicating this chapter to _CytheraofNaxen,_ whose desperate need for an update and not so subtle reminders may have made her self-combust! And to everybody else who has been reading and reviewing ... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25: Snowball.<strong>

"What's going on Andy?" Christopher was at a loss for what to do.

Andy lay on the floor, trying to stop the insistent tremor in her hands; as she balled up her fists, taking slow deep breaths. Christopher eyed her carefully as he dialled the telephone in his uncles' hospital room, telling him what had happened before handing Andy the phone.

"Here," Christopher whispered softly, as he sat cross-legged on the floor next to her.

Andy opened her eyes. "Uncle Anton?" Immediately as she said his name, her eyes pooled with tears. "I..." she couldn't speak.

Christopher tentatively took her hand and was surprised if not a little relieved when she held it back.

"Andy," was all Anton said. He had never used that particular tone of voice before, at least not that she remembered. But there was something familiar about it, something that reminded her of feeling unwell or falling over and grazing her knee. It brought up memories that were just a little too far out from her minds reach to catch and examine more closely. But for now the feelings his voice elicited calmed her down.

"Listen to me. I need you to trust me, can you do that?" She nodded into the receiver, unable to speak.

"I know you're scared, but do not say anything right now to anyone. Do what your brother says, Okay?"

Andy did not answer.

"Okay?" He spoke much softer this time, but the emphasis was still there.

"Okay," she repeated to Anton almost inaudibly.

"Put Chris back on. And kid...we'll sort things out."

Anton sounded breathless, and unbeknown to Andy he was already sitting up in bed, having removed his oxygen mask, as he put his bare feet on the floor. It was a strange feeling for Anton, having not moved very much the last few weeks. His legs felt shaky and the effort made his breathing more laboured.

Andy handed her brother back the phone, willing the room to stop spinning. Christopher rose to his feet and spoke to Anton in short whispers, pacing up and down as he ran a hand through his hair. After a short while he hung up the call as he watched Andy intently. She sighed shakily before trying to use her sleeve to wipe away the blood on her face before he stopped her.

"Uncle Anton said I mustn't clean you up, that he wants to see what has been done."

"I'm not going to the hospital to see him like this, Chris."

He stared at Andy a short while longer, as if he was weighing up some sort of dilemma in his mind.

"You need to stand," he instructed as he squatted down and scooped her up easily in his arms before placing her on the settee."Rest Andy, nothing will happen to you while I am here."

He went over to the front door and double bolted it before getting a broom and sweeping up the broken vase. Andy watched him anxiously, twisting awkwardly on her side to keep him in view.

Christopher walked towards her, easing her back into a supine positioning. "Everything will be fine," he said reassuringly. "We'll sort things out."

Andy lay back slowly, sinking back into one of the cushions and stared at the ceiling. She heard Christopher make another telephone call, but had zoned out of what he was saying, feeling the onslaught of another migraine. What she would give to be lying on a beach somewhere right now, or camping out in the wilderness with her dad. How she wished she had just gone back to Sam's from the penny, then maybe none of this would have happened.

...

Andy wasn't sure how long she was lost in her thoughts, until she heard the sound of Christopher placing her overnight bag and handbag on the floor beside the front door.

"Is there anything else?" Chris looked at her expectantly.

"Um...just my mail. I didn't check my mailbox."

Just then there was a knock at the door. Christopher opened it and greeted one of Anton's goons. It was the older one who never spoke and whose face you could never quite read. They spoke in hushed voices, as Christopher handed the goon her belongings.

Andy looked between the two men. "Chris, what's going on?"

"You're going with Johnny. He'll keep you safe," he said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

It was a different side she was witnessing to her brother. He was assertive, in control and a leader. He reminded Andy of Anton.

Scooping up Andy one last time, Christopher closed the door firmly behind them as they walked along her corridor. They stopped briefly at her mailbox before stepping into the elevator and towards the black SUV parked outside. He slid her into the passenger seat next to Johnny.

"I'll be back later," he assured her.

"Chris..." She looked at Johnny nervously.

"You'll be fine. Johnny would take a bullet than let anything happen to you."

She glanced at Johnny's who stared stoically ahead, neither refuting or agreeing with what had been said.

"I'll be around thirty minutes behind you."

He kissed her on the forehead, before closing the door, and hurrying away to his own parked vehicle.

Johnny started the engine. "Fasten your seatbelt," he eventually said as he adjusted his rear view mirror.

"Where are you taking me?" Her hand was already wrapped around the handle of the car's door poised to push it open.

"To the family home."

"No you can just take me to my boyfriend's house. He'll be expecting me."

"Sorry Ms Hill, I can't do that. I'm under strict orders from Mr Hill."

"It's not Ms Hill," Andy said confused, but did not continue, remembering her uncle's instruction to keep silent.

"Sit back, the traffic is busy this time of the evening," Johnny commented, clearly not interested in wanting to know her real name and turned on the radio.

Johnny the goon never spoke again for the entire journey.

* * *

><p>Christopher sat in his car, blowing out a deep breath. He was following his uncles instructions to the letter, but this was not part of it. He didn't know when he got so cunning as he pulled out Andy's cell phone from his back pocket. He scrolled through the numbers in its address book until he found Sam's number and hit the dial button to connect the call. He had no idea what he would say exactly. No idea at all.<p>

...

Christopher walked into the penny several minutes later looking for Sam. He saw him sitting in the far corner, talking with two men. Sam looked up and they caught one another's eye.

Holding up his hand in an attempt at a wave, Christopher dropped his hand and soon as he saw the scowl on Sam's face. The two men turn their focus on him too. The taller guy in the expensive looking suit said something to which Sam pulled a face at in response, and the heavier set guy laughed before ordering another drink.

"Great..." Christopher muttered to himself, as he walked in their direction. "Just frigging great."

* * *

><p>Anton was towering over the kitchen sink, working diligently to pack as many ice cubes as possible in a dish towel. He was still standing in his hospital gown, although he was wearing his own trousers and shoes. Thankfully Tina was asleep, so it was just Priscilla, Maury and Ryan huddled in the kitchen. His two friends were somewhere, possibly smoking in the backyard; Anton wasn't really paying attention to where they had gone.<p>

He was trying so damn hard not to look at Andy that he was ignoring her altogether since she had arrived a few minutes earlier. He heard Priscilla and his sons greet her, but he had yet to do so. He was trying to quell his anger, pushing away the red haze that had formed a mist around him and clouding his thoughts.

Priscilla walked over to her husband, leaned against the kitchen counter, and turned her head towards him. Anton still would not chance a glance even at her. His eyes were watery and filled with an unspecified emotion that he was trying desperately to control.

"I'll be there in a moment, Cilla" he stumbled, cursing silently as the ice cubes fell into the sink.

Priscilla squeezed his arm reassuringly, and Anton nodded once, able to decode her silent message after so many years of marriage. She looked through the window at their old friends standing in the yard, and pulling back at the blinds raised an eyebrow at their goofing around. She was surprised they didn't break a hip and mused at their silliness. They stopped in their antics feeling her gaze and resumed their more serious personas as they made their way back inside the house.

Throwing Anton one last look she watched him stare vacantly at the ice in the sink.

"What are you doing?" Priscilla whispered to him only.

"Trying to be helpful," he answered. Anton looked up and turned around and he was really looking at her now.

"And you are sweetheart," she said reassuringly, "but Andy really needs that ice...and you."

She squeezed his arm one last time before walking away.

...

Carlos strutted into the kitchen, smiling brightly as soon as he saw Andy sitting at the dining table. The recognition was instant.

"Can it really be?" Andy looked at him confused. "My little Andy Pandy."

Andy blushed at his pet name for her as she worried her bottom lip.

"Andy Pandy, all grown up," he sighed, pulling her to her feet and into an enthusiastic embrace.

Andy's arms hung loosely by her side as the stranger hugged her affectionately.

"I'm your Uncle Carlos," he announced kissing her on the cheek.

He let her down gently on her chair, and knelt down to face her. "I'm sorry this has happened little one, but we will fix it," he assured her.

He looked at her closely and smiled warmly. "Hey Jimmy, hurry up! Come and see Andy Pandy," he yelled.

A tall man with a more serious expression came into view. He had shaggy, dirty blond hair and a weeks worth of stubble. He was somewhat taller than Carlos and she could just make out a tattoo on his neck. Andy recognised him from the case files and he looked just as menacing as his photograph. His grey eyes seemed glassy and cold but it softened somewhat as he looked at her letting out a small breath.

"Hey, kid," Jimmy said coolly. His voice sounded low yet dangerous. "You look like shit."

"I've had better days," Andy replied.

"Me too," Jimmy grumbled in response.

It was hardly the greeting she expected and turned to Ryan who simply shrugged. Jimmy never touched her or made any effort to smile.

Anton pushed past the huddle, clutching the packed ice as if his life depended on it. "Always observant Jimmy," he drawled sarcastically.

"Someone has to be," he said seriously.

Carlos was buzzing with excitement at seeing Andy and clasped his hands together joyfully. "She's grown so big, so beautiful..." his voice cracked."I just wish..." he stopped, openly wiping away a stray tear. "He would be so proud."

Jimmy was just as moved as Carlos, but always a man of few words and little emotion, simply breathed "yeah."

All three men were locked in their brief mourning, before Anton broke the silent reverie by clearing his throat.

"Sorry about your uncles Andy, I can't take them anywhere," Anton attempted to joke, before finally allowing himself to look at her and the bruises the mystery man's attack had left.

It was just as bad as he imagined.

Anton made his way closer, taking the empty seat that Ryan had sensibly vacated.

Anton didn't speak for a moment as he assessed Andy's battered features. Her eyes closed when he pressed the packed ice against her bruised jaw. He immediately looked up from where his hand was holding the dish towel against her skin when she sighed in relief.

"Does that feel better?" His voice was soft.

"Yeah," Andy replied back, inexplicably drawn closer to him.

"I'm sorry, Andy."

"I know," she winced as he applied more pressure.

"You need to tell me what happened, kid," Anton finally said.

His voice was making Andy dizzy and when she did not answer, Anton repeated his request much softer. Her eyes widened at the words and she tried to focus on what he was saying. She tensed as she painfully remembered but didn't know quite where to start. "I kneed him in the nuts," she whispered out.

Someone in the room sniggered. She sensed it was Carlos but could not be sure.

Anton's eyes narrowed. "Did you hurt him?"

"Yes."

Anton couldn't help the surge of pride that passed through him.

"Good girl," he chuckled. "Good girl."

Anton was calm, steady and in all honesty just what she needed at that moment. He managed to stop her from freaking out or totally shutting down, her body had yet to decide its plan of action.

"So I need you to tell me what happened from the beginning," Anton continued.

"I need to see Sam," she suddenly blurted out, as if a light switch had just been switched on in her brain. "I didn't tell him what had happened. I..."

"Later," Anton cut her off, "I promise. But first tell me what happened. I need all the details."

Andy nodded, and the whole room went silent.

Anton didn't speak for a minute because he was afraid of what Andy would say next. The blood was rushing in his ears, and his head swam with fury that he had let her down. Again. One simple thing he had promised Maurice, and he was doing a lousy job.

"I'm sorry," he said again. He really didn't know what else to say to comfort her. It seemed the words to do that simply don't exist in his vocabulary.

Anton couldn't understand why someone would do this to her. Him? Sure. Even Priscilla or the other kids, at least it made more sense. But Andy? With the exception of Wayne and Chris, anyone that really knew about her, let alone knew what she looked like now was in the room.

_Hector Salvatores pushed open the heavy oak door and was immediately hit with the smoky atmosphere of the small building. Why they picked a bar that was old, worn and falling to pieces was beyond him. It was probably quite nice in its day but now it was filled with quiet drunks sat in high-backed booths made from cherry wood and worn leather. There was a tatty pool table in one corner , a dart board with a missing bulls eye and jukebox playing old eighties tracks. The place was a dump and why most of his staff insisted on frequenting it was beneath him. Probably the last place immigration would want to visit he mused._

_Hector nodded to the owner, an overweight balding man that everyone referred to as Belilah. It wasn't his real name, just a term of endearment in his native tongue. Hector slid into a booth facing his three most trusted employees. His god son Louis, Louis's older brother Eduardo and their distant cousin Xavier._

_"So... what was it that was so urgent that it could not wait until tomorrow? You said it was about the business, so speak quickly," Hector commanded as he wiped the table with a handkerchief before resting his elbows on it._

_Eduardo, the most focal and eldest of the three, spoke up._

_"I heard that Anton Hill is looking to retire. Why you never say uncle? This is our chance to make our mark, make some waves._

_"Yeah uncle, we need to let everyone know that we are the next one in line," Xavier added._

_Hector was almost amused by the display of naivety. Of course he'd heard, everyone in the business had heard, news like that never stayed a secret for long. It was causing major panic amongst the suppliers in the west coastal villages of Santa Augusta, South America. Anton Hill accounted for eighty percent of their business._

_"And how do you suppose we do that?" Hector gestured for them to continue._

_"Well we just start setting up in his territories. What's he gonna do? He's retiring anyway," Eduardo suggested casually._

_Hector banged his fist on the table, causing the contents of Xavier's beer glass to spill._

_"Are you stupid?" His question startled the three young men into silence._

_Cautiously, Hector looked around the room, and lowered his voice. "It's talk like that, that will get us killed," he hissed._

_Two of the trio looked suitably chastised, but not Eduardo._

_"What? The way I see it if we don't mark the territory first, someone else will."_

_"Have I taught you nothing? The only people that will be marked are us," Hector clarified. "Forget any clever ideas you all have thought up. The answer is no."_

* * *

><p>He was about to lose it. In fact he may have already lost it after he heard the words 'Andy' and 'Hurt' in the same sentence.<p>

"Look, Sam..." Christopher began.

Sam looked furious as Christopher spoke to him.

It sounded like a roar when Sam next spoke. "What aren't you telling me? Why didn't Andy call me herself?"

"She wanted to, but I said I would find you instead," Christopher lied. Andy was still in shock, and he was sure once that passed, Sam would be the first thing on her mind.

Sam seemed only mildly appeased.

"If he's hurt her in any way...," Sam began to shout.

"You'll have to get in line right behind me and several other people,"" Christopher interrupted. "You aren't the only one that cares deeply for Andy," he confessed. "It may be different with you, but it's still there."

Sam nodded knowingly before following Christopher out of his car, and up the Hill driveway. There were several expensive cars parked on the drive, all tightly packed together.

Sam took in his surroundings slowly."Where are we?"

"Don't freak out," Christopher added as they stood outside the front door of the Hill residence. "This is where we live. I didn't tell my uncle you were coming, but it will be fine I'm sure."

"Really?" The disbelief in Sam's voice was evident. "That's highly unlikely. Just tell Andy I'm outside, and we'll be out of your hair."

"Sam. Look, I'm being honest when I say that you don't have the resources to deal with this. You are both in over your heads; I don't even have a clue how to deal with this. Uncle Anton will sort this, you have no choice in accepting his help."

"I don't want his help," Sam retorted.

"This is not about want, Sam," Christopher said calmly.

So they both stood at a stalemate.

"I know you and him don't get on and you probably never will, but you gotta believe me when I say that Uncle Anton loves Andy, and would rather die than let anything happen to her. In fact to any of us."

"I don't know what to do," Sam admitted. He didn't move, his hands still gripped so tight, almost to the point of pain.

"Okay...So let's just wait outside here a few more minutes and compose ourselves," Christopher said cautiously, anxious that his uncle wouldn't go mad at what he had done.

* * *

><p>"After he had hit me the first time, he said he didn't want to hurt me. He said it was nothing personal that he was a business man, and not a fighter. He said that he wanted first refusal to take over your business when you retire."<p>

Ryan and Maury stared at their mother who nodded slowly in confirmation. Anton threw Jimmy a glance, who simply shrugged. No one they dealt with would be so stupid.

"Maybe an American?" Carlos questioned.

"No, he had an accent, said he was a Salvatores," Andy clarified. "Definitely a Salvatores, he said the name twice."

"_That__ is not how things are done, we need to do things properly," Hector said as calmly as he could muster._

_He stared at them incredulously, at the way they processed things. Walking in front of a moving bus would be a preferable method than going against Hill._

_"You always say that! There's no such thing as the right way, it's whatever the way is to get what you need. This is modern times uncle!"_

_Eduardo was hot headed and the least smarter of the other two in terms of planning and common sense. But he was keen and self driven, all good qualities in this business when trying to make a name for oneself. So Hector tried to explain things without highlighting his shortcomings._

_"Let me tell you something, I have been in this game a lot longer than you three, almost fifteen years and the one thing that has kept me alive is not pissing off Anton Hill. The man is a legend, and deserves respect. He's also old school and they play by a different set of rules." _

_Hector tried to remain calm and hoped he rationally explained the ramifications of embarking on such a crazy idea. "My uncle used to work closely with Carlos Alvarez..."_

_"That old guy who owns that swanky bar on West Street?" _

_"Si, Louis, the very same. Carlos and Hill are like brothers and go way back to when he first started out. My uncle told me how to deal with guys like Hill when he saw I was entering the business."_

_"Yeah?" Eduardo rolled his eyes, not one for tradition or long drawn out stories._

_Louis kicked his brother's foot under the table. He wanted to hear this even if his brother did not._

_"I have visited Carlos's bar and have told him I am interested in some action."_

_"Well what did he say?" Eduardo paid a little more interest, after that last comment._

_He said 'is that so.' "_

_Xavier looked perplexed. "What does that mean? Is that some sort of secret code?"_

_"It means that Hill knows I am interested, Carlos will have told him so."_

_Eduardo opened his mouth to comment just as Hector held up his hand to silence him already knowing his next remark._

_"How do I know that? Because that's how old school works. When Hill is ready, I will request a meeting and take it from there."_

_"I heard The Bridge End crew have already tried and he wasn't interested. Called them trash. What if he says the same about us?" Xavier was always a worrier._

_"If he disrespects us, I'll knock him out," Eduardo bragged menacingly. The diamond in his tooth glimmered as it caught the light. "This is a new generation; it's all about getting rich or die hard trying."_

"I don't believe that," Carlos disagreed.

"Salvatores you say?" Anton turned to look at Carlos. "Isn't that the guy you mentioned to me last week?

"Yes, but it must be another. He would not do this, he knows the rules." He looked at Andy closely. "Are you sure kid? This is a serious allegation that you are making."

_"Anton Hill has never disrespected me, because I have never disrespected him. What we make is pocket money compared to his empire but he lets us operate. He knows who we are; he makes it his business to know that."_

_"So we just need to show him we are good candidates," Louis surmised._

_"Exactly," Hector smiled at his god son. "Exactly."_

"_But..." Eduardo questioned._

_"Enough! We wait until he is accepting visitors and I will talk to him more, he already knows I am interested. Do not try and work him or piss him off. You will always lose."_

_Hector got up to leave._

_"But uncle..." Eduardo protested, rising to his feet too. Unconcerned that a few patrons were listening._

_"Basta Ya! Enough Eduardo!" Hector snapped. "Stop this crazy talk, because I will not back you up if you do something stupid. Are you coming? I will give you guys a ride."_

_The other two stood, whilst Eduardo shook his head and sat down once more, nursing his beer._

_"Suit yourself," Hector shrugged exasperated. "Xavier... Louis... vamos," Hector commanded and clicked his fingers twice as he exited the bar._

* * *

><p>The extra time spent standing outside did not help. Sam was still mad, probably more so if that was even possible. Christopher let him into the house as they both walked towards the chatter coming from the kitchen. Any hope of any civil interaction vanished as soon as Sam and Anton laid eyes on one another.<p>

"Tell me why the two goddamn times she's been hurt, you have something to do with it?"

Sam marched into the kitchen where everyone was gathered. Both Ryan and Maury rose to their feet at the intrusion, ready to defend their father. Anton barely raised an eyebrow and his blatant disregard was apparent. He fleetingly glanced at Sam before continuing the discussion he was having with the two men next to him.

It was then that Sam's focus found Andy, and he did not like what he saw one little bit.

He needed to say something, but nothing came to mind. Even his anger at Anton eased into the background. All he could do was feel and what he felt was numb at how close he'd come to losing her. Again.

"Andy," Sam rumbled. He moved quickly towards her, holding her tight as she clung on to his shirt. He pulled her closer, throwing Anton a look that spoke volumes. It was Christopher that diffused any potential altercation by placing a hand in Sam's shoulder and shaking his head.

"Sorry for shouting sweetheart," Sam whispered when he noticed she was shaking.

Her response was to hold him tighter.

"Andy?" Sam asked. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth to give the customary "fine" but stopped.

"No," Andy said, shaking her head. "I'm not. I'm afraid, Sam. l was really afraid."

"What happened?" he prompted, refusing to let her retreat.

She sighed. "He followed me to my apartment. I think he's been following me the last couple of weeks."

It was Sam's turn to flinch as he rubbed his palm soothingly against her back, listening to her breathes. Long minutes pass and they don't talk, but his presence is comforting and the relief she feels is immense.

He smiled at Priscilla sorrowfully, who busied herself with making tea and coffee.

They watched as the three elder men spoke hushed and huddled. Priscilla's testy eyes were fixed on her husband, her body defeated. She knew he wouldn't let this attack lie, in fact none of them would and for once in her life she agreed that something needed to be done.

"This is down to you Hill. All this is down to you," Sam accused.

Anton paused mid conversation with Carlos and Jimmy.

"How's the view from up there on your cloud, Swarek?" Anton shook his head. "It's amazing really, how oblivious you are to your own faults. Oh yes, that's right, I forgot... you're perfect."

Sam's eyes were boring through Anton and Andy wondered how his jaw doesn't break under the pressure of his clenching.

"Maybe if you paid more attention to your girlfriend and less on me, you'd have realised she was being followed."

"She was being followed because of you!"

Andy pulled Sam back as he rose.

"Sam... please. Look nobody is to blame really...we all could have handled things differently," she reasoned.

"I'm only going to say this once, Swarek. Back. Off," Anton said coldly before resuming his discussion.

"So that's the weasel?" Jimmy nodded towards Sam. Anton grunted the affirmative.

Carlos shook his head as if he was somehow disappointed in what he saw. Jimmy stared at Sam coldly before looking back at Andy, and his demeanour softened once more. "What did he look like?" Andy furrowed her brow. "The guy that did this what did he look like?" Jimmy resumed the questioning.

"We can come back to that later. I want to hear the rest of the story," Anton commented.

The two friends bickered amongst themselves and it would almost be funny under different circumstances. And that thought made her tear up once more.

"Gentleman, please!" Priscilla called them into line. "Hush, you are upsetting her."

Jimmy stared at Andy, motioning with a nod for her to continue.

"Um...He was tall. My age, maybe a little older."

"Salvatores is around fifty," Anton muttered thoughtfully.

"No, he wasn't that old," Andy said.

"So he sent someone else to do his dirty work for him. Hardly rocket science," Jimmy argued.

"Well, does he know about the kid? Did either of you say something?" Anton looked around at the other two.

Carlos shook his head. "Not from me, man."

Anton looked at Jimmy. "Jimmy?"

"You're anxious," Jimmy said offended, "so I won't even answer that."

"Sorry" Anton sighed. "I'm just...It just doesn't make sense."

"What about Wayne?"

"Impossible," Anton replied with certainty.

"I'll call Hector," Carlos suggested, pulling out his cell phone. "We'll pay Hector a visit. Get to the bottom of this once and for all. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

"Wait," Jimmy barked, as he suddenly began to pace. "Let's just go over what we know one more time."

The three men huddled in the corner and began discussing the situation once more.

* * *

><p>Sam had enough.<p>

"I need to get Andy to a hospital," Sam stated, pulling her coat back on.

"No need," Priscilla piped up. "We have a doctor who will check Andy. No need for hospitals. I've already called him."

...

The doctor arrived within minutes, of Priscilla's announcement. Andy was not sure what she was expecting but he was pleasant and professional. They moved to the living room so he could examine her privately, and Sam glared at the doctor the whole time as he palpitated her jaw and abdomen. Finally Andy was given some painkillers and the recommendation to rest.

Sam took her by the hand, heading towards the front door to leave. They were intercepted by Johnny as they were inches away from leaving.

"You're wanted back with the others," Johnny said in a tone void of any emotion.

"I'm taking her home," Sam said defiantly.

"I'm sorry that wasn't a question. You are both wanted back in the kitchen. You have the option of not coming, but Ms Hill does not."

"Her name is not Hill," he said tightly, "and she does not have to go anywhere she doesn't want to."

He pushed pass, and went to open the door.

Johnny's voice softened then. He knew if tried hard enough, he could probably piece together what was really going on but he really didn't want to know. "You can't leave things as they are, chances are things will be worse next time, and there will be a next time," he said calmly. So...you should come back... be with your girlfriend."

...

Andy clutched a mug of cold coffee between her hands, sipping it every once in a while simply for something to do. Priscilla had poured a capful of brandy into it when she wasn't looking.

The television was playing in the background that nobody was really watching or listening to. Christopher leaned on against the wall, arms crossed, staring at the small circle of older men, and Priscilla flipped through a pile of magazines without even glancing at them. Rarely one for subtlety, Sam eyes glared at Anton's head, his posture stiff as a board whilst Maury and Ryan stared at Sam. All in all things were tense.

"Sam" Andy said softly, squeezing his hand.

Glancing at Sam whose hardened gaze still hadn't left Anton's back, Andy stifled a sigh.

To be fair, the attack was as much more her fault than Anton. She could have handled it differently, hid rather than fought.

"Sam," she whispered, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I can understand if this is too much," she blurted out.

Sam was angry then, and grabbed at her, "I love you," he said with total abandonment, "I am not walking away from us."

He held her tight, as she replayed the nights events over and over. She told them everything she knew around what felt like one hundred times and the exhaustion was beginning to take over. Just as her eyelids began to droop, they snapped open again.

She remembered something else.

"He had a gold tooth..." she started.

Sam sat up straight. "Who?"

"The man. He had a gold tooth. The top front right tooth and it had a diamond in the middle of it."

"That sounds like Eduardo, Hector's nephew." Carlos rubbed his jaw in disbelief that Hector would sanction this. He looked at the others, and Anton's expression had turned hard. It mirrored Jimmy's.

"Priscilla, I need some clean clothes, and one of my vests," Anton said firmly, the red haze of anger returning full force.

Priscilla chewed her bottom lip nervously but hurried up the stairs, while Carlos slipped on his coat.

"Where are you going dad?" Ryan asked.

"To speak to Hector Salvatores. You all should go to bed, it's late," he said.

Sam looked at Andy for guidance. "We don't want any part if this. I'll take Andy and we'll both go," he said.

Anton growled in irritation. "You and I both know how these things work. It will snowball and before you know it, I'm dealing with a fucking avalanche. What happens if you are not around or I'm not available? What if she isn't able to defend herself next time? You know what can happened. Get your head out of your ass!"

Anton nodded to Carlos and Jimmy, before turning back to Andy. "This is the real deal kid and I get it you're scared. I guess we'll just have to be brave for all of us. I need to sort this, I can't be nice."

Christopher who had remained quiet for some time, pushed himself up from against the wall he was leaning against.

"I want to come Uncle Anton," he said.

"Chris," Anton's voice was deep and the warning was clear.

"Might be a good way to break him in," Jimmy said as he pulled up the collars of his long trench coat. "Maybe carry on the business."

"Nobody's breaking anybody in anywhere," Priscilla gasped, pulling Christopher back as she handed Anton his clothes.

"Just as back up uncle, I won't anything stupid. You're still not better. Please... Andy tell him it makes sense," Christopher pleaded as if somehow her words had more weight.

"I don't know." Andy threw a quick glance in Sam's direction. "I mean..." she watched Anton as he slipped on a fresh shirt, horrified when she saw him put on a bullet proof vest underneath.

"... maybe we could..." She looked at Sam who seemed unfazed, or maybe he just had his 'undercover' face on.

"He could have killed you kid," was all Anton said, "and I need to know why."

Andy began to twitch, and pulled her hand away from Sam's. The damn Lion's Heart and fierce loyalty he loved so much was the thing which he hated right now. Sam knew what she was going to say even before she said it.

"I'm coming with you guys... don't tell me no," Andy said determined, as she slowly stood to her feet. Pausing for only an instant she continued. "I can't let them go alone Sam," she whispered hurriedly."Families sort their problems out together."

Sam also knew what was coming next, but had no way if controlling it. He shook his head as if to erase whatever thought he just had. The need to protect her and keep her safe flowed through his body like blood through veins.

"Well then I'm coming too," Sam said equally determined.

"What?" Andy Stuttered.

"I said I'm coming too."

"I don't think we need his help, right Anton?" Carlos stood waiting for Anton to agree.

Anton stared at Sam pointedly, mentally assessing the situation.

"Well it looks as if Hector Salvatores has a problem," Anton said dryly as he finished dressing.

"Are you sure about this?" Jimmy asked Anton.

"Yeah. Why not. But you three," he said pointing at Sam, Andy and Christopher do what we say."

Jimmy scowled and observed the exchange between Anton and the weasel boyfriend warily. He was nothing if not territorial.

"Well don't stand there like a sack of potatoes," Anton griped. "We leave in five minutes. Sharp."


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Thanks to all of you that took the time to review the previous chapter! I'm a little nervous about this new chapter for many reasons, but I really hope you guys like it.**

**Just a warning; there is a lot of swearing, bad language and general violence in this chapter. It's all pretty tame really, but I felt it was necessary as these are hardened criminals we are dealing with right?**

**As always please review, but most importantly... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26: A Sea of Red.<strong>

"Don't start getting ideas," Priscilla said to Maury and Ryan firmly. "You two are not going."

She watched anxiously as the others gathered themselves together before she quietly slipped out of the room. It did not go unnoticed.

"Can you guys give me a moment?" Anton sighed as he followed her retreating back.

He found her in the living room, staring hopelessly at a family portrait that hung over the fireplace.

"Hey sweetheart," Anton murmured as he leaned against the door frame.

Priscilla's head lifted at Anton's voice, but she did not move closer and looked away once more. He walked towards her, a small smile played on his lips, as he tried to make light of her subconscious passive-aggressive behaviour.

"I'm not contagious," Anton teased. "Come here," he rumbled, as he pulled her closer wrapping his hand possessively around her waist.

Priscilla smiled, and the tension in her shoulders slackened.

"You okay?" he asked.

"What do you think?" She wrapped her arms around her body. "I don't want my baby hurt, Anton. Tell Chris to stay home with me and the boys, call Johnny back instead. It's not safe. I've got a bad feeling about all of this."

Anton shook his head. "I don't think I can Cilla, it's Chris's call. But I'll keep him safe. Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do," she replied.

"Good. So don't worry." He tugged her hand, gently guiding her back to where the others were waiting.

On his way out, Anton leaned close to Priscilla and lowered his voice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be back soon," he murmured before kissing her on the cheek.

"Look after yourself," she whispered, as she zipped up his jacket.

"Look after your mom," Anton nodded seriously at Maury and Ryan before the unlikely posse left the house in search of Hector Salvatores.

* * *

><p>Carlos whipped the car into an empty parking space across the road from Hector Salvatores's home. It was a little after midnight he noted as he glanced down to check the time on his watch. Carlos had told Hector he wanted to talk about the business, but conveniently left out the fact that he wouldn't be alone and was unlikely to be doing much talking.<p>

He turned off the engine, silently assessing the situation that he had committed himself to. The atmosphere was tense and although both he and Anton knew why, only one chose to address it. They had been in similar situations many times over the years. Anything could happen once they entered that house, but no matter what happened they would have each others backs.

"Ready?" Anton asked as he stared at the house too. "Last chance to pull out, things could get messy."

"Always ready, man." Carlos replied.

"Andy?"

Andy looked out the window, taking in the building in front of them. "Yeah." She slowly unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle when Anton leaned over the back of his seat, his hand on her arm preventing her from moving any further.

"I'm pulling your leg kid. Stay in the car all three of you. Don't move a muscle."

Leaving the keys in the ignition, both Anton and Carlos stepped out of the car and were met by Jimmy who had driven ahead. They stood talking, finalising the details of their confrontation.

Christopher had climbed out of the car too, standing in the periphery keeping watch. He had no idea of what he was doing there, simply spurred on by an overwhelming sense to protect his uncle. Neither of the men objected to his presence and let him be, it was almost like having Maurice there watching over them.

They continued to talk and Christopher was able to catch snippets of their conversation.

"Just let me do the talking first."

"Fine, but too much talking and I'll have to really hurt that sorry fucker."

"Remember his family are there..."

"I'm looking forward to this..."

"It not a game, Jimmy..."

"Pity...We never lose."

Christopher was anxious. The way they spoke, the language and tone was new to him. If it wasn't for the fact that faces behind the voices belonged to his uncles, he would be extremely scared. This was an all out war, and there would always be casualties.

* * *

><p>They sat in the car in silence, clutching one another's hand, both watching the activity outside.<p>

Sam wasn't worried about Salvatores or Hill's style of retribution. He wasn't naive. He'd been around long enough to know that's what was coming. He knew this would give him some small justice, make up for not protecting Andy, if only in some small way.

Sam watched the older men talk with great interest. He always found the oath of honour and the etiquette in the drug world strange. It was the first thing he noticed when he began undercover work, but it was all bullshit as far as he was concerned. He didn't need to pretend that beating the shit out of Salvatores was for Andy's benefit. It was in her honour maybe, but ultimately it was for Anton's benefit and his wounded pride.

He took a moment to glance at Andy. Her eyes were closed and she whispered words that Sam could not quite make out.

"Are you praying?" he asked, shifting slightly in his seat. She smiled without opening her eyes; a quiet, personal smile that hid a lifetime of stories that one day she would reveal or Sam would eventually discover.

"l guess I am," she said softly, before finally opening her eyes.

They both continued to peer at the house, Anton, the 'uncles' and Christopher who was pacing up and down the drive anxiously. She should probably go to him Andy thought, but her legs felt heavy and somehow she sensed she needed to be with Sam more.

"How do you feel about this?" she finally asked. "Really?"

Sam shrugged, and looked out the passenger window. "Doesn't thrill me, if that's what you're asking," he sighed.

"Sam, you know that you don't need to be here right?"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I know."

She slid her hand down his arm, threading her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand tightly, drawing comfort and seeking warmth from her touch.

Sam sighed again. "Can we change the subject."

"To what?"

"Anything but this mess."

They were both silent then.

Sam was looking at her like…well she was not entirely sure what his look signified, but it was soft and full of love.

"Tell me something," he said, absently caressing her hand with his thumb.

Andy rested her head back against her seat. "Hmm."

"Move in with me," he said, heart hammering.

Her eyebrows arched briefly, in surprise.

Andy smiled and asked the next question, not allowing herself to over think that one."You do realise we already live together?"

Sam chuckled. "I know, but I mean officially. Have your mail going there, change your contact details at work, record a joint message on the answer phone."

Andy looked down at their hands then into his eyes and she nodded. "I'd like that."

"Me too, McNally," Sam smiled.

They were interrupted by Christopher, who tapped on the glass rapidly. Sam rolled down the window.

"Uncle Anton wants Andy to come out of the car and with him into the house."

Sam was about to protest, but Christopher continued. "We can both come too," he added pointing towards himself and then Sam, "but we both need to shut up, not react to whatever happens and do as we are told."

Sam frowned.

"Uncle Anton's words, not mine," Christopher emphasised as he opened the car door.

* * *

><p>At the front door they are greeted by Hector's wife. A petite lady with a mass of silky black hair, held together in a large clip. She smiled at Carlos, speaking in Spanish as she led them to a plush dining room, speaking briefly to the occupant before hurrying away.<p>

There was one lone figure sitting behind a wide table, no doubt "Hector."

The man was tanned, definitely South American with a full head of wavy jet black hair that was slightly greying at the temples. He was impeccably groomed with a shirt and suit more expensive looking than anything Andy owned. He oozed class and sophistication. He sat calmly with his hands poised in front of him before motioning for them to come closer and join him. Hector wasn't what Andy imagined, his eyes seemed kind.

Only Anton stepped forward, Jimmy and Carlos held back along with Christopher and Sam who held Andy's arm tightly. The energy in the room was so powerful that it made the place hum.

Andy could tell Hector was on edge as his eyes darted curiously at the people before him. She wondered what he was thinking. Hector knew it was a big deal to have all three there, and although it could be a friendly visit he knew he was in a bad situation. He didn't recognise the girl or the two younger men, but he had nothing to hide, he was a straightforward man.

"Please sit my friends," he began in his thick accent. "I didn't know what you'd like to eat so I've had my wife prepare a bit of everything."

Hector tried to appear casual, taking in Andy's appearance and the fact that she looked as if she was scared to be there. Both men stared at one another intensely, and Anton never wavered once. Whilst Hector was strong and maintained his calm persona, Anton was fearless and almost indifferent to the possibility that this man was a threat. He stared at Hector as if he was nothing.

Hector looked towards Carlos for some sort of clue, but Carlos looked back at him blankly.

"What can I do for you Mr Hill? I feel honoured to have you in my home, but this is not a social visit is it?"

Anton glanced at Andy. "She..." he said tipping his head towards Andy,"has absolutely nothing to do with what I do. I suggest if you want to piss me off, then you are going the right way about it."

"I can assure you, Mr Hill..."

"I don't need your assurances Salvatores." Anton's voice was stern as he placed his gun on the table between them. "I make my own."

"Hold on," Hector waved his hands."What are you talking about?"

"Eduardo," Carlos contributed before looking away.

"What does Eduardo have to..." Hector looked at Andy and paled, finally putting two and two together.

...

"I can see why this is a problem... hitting a woman is inexcusable. The matter will be dealt with. Eduardo was a little over zealous, but I don't want this to affect our working relationship."

"Over zealous?" Anton grabbed Andy harshly by the face and pushed it towards Hector for closer inspection. "Is that what you call it?"

Hector was at a loss for what to say. Anton Hill was getting angrier and there was nothing he could do or say to stop it. He could feel the beads of perspiration on his brow, but he was loath to do anything about it in case it annoyed Anton further.

"I have one question for you Salvatores and think hard before you answer. Do you really want to fuck with me?"

Hector shouted loudly in Spanish, and his wife came back into the room, nodded before hurrying out a second time. He turned his attention to Carlos. "This is a mistake which can easily be cleared up. Carlos, amigo. How long have we known one another? You know how kids can be..."

A bleary eyed Eduardo walked into the room at that point, yawning as he scratched distractedly at his bare chest.

"Wake up!" Hector snapped and pointed toward Andy.

"Did you do this?"

"No," Eduardo replied slowly, eyeing Andy then all the people in the room.

_Fuck! This wasn't part of the plan. They hadn't spoken about this. Think quick, Eduardo!_

"Who the hell are all these people? Long lost relatives?" He laughed nervously at his own joke. Eduardo tried to appear casual in his bravado but as his eyes moved down to the gun sitting on the table he was unable to mask the fear.

"Is this the man?" Anton turned to Andy, who simply nodded, visibly tensing as she took a step back towards Sam.

Sam's glare at Eduardo turned dark and stepped forward so quickly that if Christopher hadn't been prepared for it, his hand wouldn't have made it to his arm in time. Sam launched himself forward ready to hurt the man that had hurt her, but Christopher held him back. He gripped Sam's arm so tight that it was enough to make him stop, and heed the silent warning to wait it out. Christopher had no idea what would happen, but his uncles did for sure. They worked seamlessly and with complete synchronicity, all talking and moving as if they were each an arm of a giant octopus. When one person stopped the other would pick up effortlessly, pausing only to allow another to continue.

"I trust you will allow me to deal with this matter," Hector said, throwing a murderous glance at Eduardo.

"The matter is dealt with when we say so," Jimmy snarled, unable to remain silent any longer.

Jimmy stood straight, stalking across the room, reaching out and grabbing Hector by his shirt collar, damn near ripping the expensive fabric. "Don't touch things that aren't yours Salvatores." He moved quickly and deftly as he drew his knife. Pulling Hector up roughly from the chair, Jimmy pressed it firmly against Hector's throat.

Eduardo blinked once, twice, then swallowed harshly.

"Now I really don't have all day and I'm not a patient man, So somebody had better tell me what the hell is going on, before I slit his throat."

He pressed the knife more firmly, causing a small trickle of blood to drip down the column of Hector's neck.

"Talk. Or he's dead."

Hector's eyes were wide with fear. "What the hell have you done Eduardo?" he asked.

"You expect us to believe you know nothing about this?" Jimmy questioned Hector in disbelief.

"I swear...I swear on my mother's life I know nothing! I have never seen her before in my life! Why would I do such a thing?"

"Well somebody knows something," Jimmy continued. "I will work my way around every Salvatores in this house one by one if I have to."

"Carlos? Mr Hill, please!" Hector pleaded, his face growing red from exertion.

"I have no control over them," was all Anton replied, switching his gaze from Eduardo back to Hector.

Carlos, pointed his gun at Eduardo. "Ponte de rodillas," he commanded as Eduardo fell to his knees.

"It wasn't my fault," he began to cry. "She wasn't supposed to fight back. I just wanted to scare her."

Everyone turned to look at Eduardo, including Hector.

"It wasn't. My uncle knew nothing, I swear. He...he told me not to get involved. I just did what the man said. He seemed like he knew you all and the business so well. I just wanted a break that's all. You gotta believe me... Please!"

"Who? You better start talking fast," Jimmy barked as he dropped a coughing and spluttering Hector to the floor, and grabbed Eduardo around his neck instead.

..

"_This seat taken?" he asked, his voice surprisingly hoarse and uncertain._

_Eduardo glanced up at the older man with watery green eyes. It took him a few seconds to recognize him from the corner booth of the bar. He was there most nights, smoking cigars and drinking dark rum. Eduardo relaxed, placed his half empty glass down and eventually found his voice, "Nah. Go ahead old man, it's a free country."_

_The man sat down, with elbows propped on the table, he folded his hands and rested his chin on them. Eduardo was staring at him, obviously curious as to why he was sitting there. The bar tender ended the awkward silence and placed a beer bottle in front of each patron before leaving them to their conversation._

_"Have a drink on me," the man offered._

_Eduardo eyed him suspiciously and popped a peanut into his mouth, then added casually. "No thanks."_

..

Eduardo gasped in pain as Jimmy punched him in the face for the second time.

"Talk you son of a bitch!"

Hector said nothing, and pressed a handkerchief against his cut throat, sending thanks to the saints that he was still alive.

Anton circled Eduardo, staring at him with an intent so strong that it made everyone on edge as to what would happen next.

"Take the car and go kids," Anton said calmly without turning around. "This is where you three need to leave."

Sam couldn't stand to be there no more, he'd seen a lot worse undercover but now he was a cop and he didn't need to be told twice.

"The keys are still in the car," Anton added in a tone that left little room for its message being lost in translation.

Sam had no words of response and for once he acknowledged Anton's integrity. God, he couldn't hardly believe he was using that word, but it was true. Anton Hill was right, this was their cue to leave, they had already seen too much.

Turning to leave, Sam nodded once as Christopher held up his hand to signify he would be there very shortly. He just wanted to see a little more, he felt compelled to stay longer. Grabbing Andy by the arm Sam pulled her towards him as they walked out the room and out of the Salvatores's home.

_.._

_"Don't worry you're not my type," the man said. "I like them blond, pretty, big breasted and dumb."_

_Both men laughed boisterously. The tension had finally lifted and Eduardo felt safe in accepting the drink. He watched the man sip his beer gingerly, visibly in no hurry. Now his presence was just plain confusing. In a joking manner, Eduardo said, "Don't you have a blond, dumb wife to go home to or something?"_

_The man's eyebrows rose slightly, then he shrugged, "No."_

"_Okay," Eduardo mumbled softly, still bewildered._

_..._

"_You know, your uncle is jealous of you," the man stated suddenly as he downed half of his drink._

"_You're kidding right?" Eduardo snorted in disbelief._

"_I'm serious. You've got everything going for you. You mustn't let him stop you from growing and becoming the man you are meant to be."_

"_It's not like there is anything between us," Eduardo countered just a tad too quickly. "I mean he's family, but I'm my own man. I do what needs to be done in order to get by."_

"_Its just," the man continued, hesitating. "No, I should really say this to someone who has the strength to follow it through. No offence intended. What do they call you?"_

_"Eduardo Salvatores," he responded proudly._

_The man nodded, taking another gulp of beer._

_"I heard the conversation you were having with your uncle. And if you are really serious, I know a sure fire way to get Anton Hill's business. All of it. No need for stupid meetings."_

_"Sure fire?"_

_"Sure fire. The key is to know his weakness, and let's just say I know his weakness."_

_"Yeah? Let's just say I believe you, what's in it for you?"_

_"Let's just say me and Hill have unfinished business, and I like the idea of him having no choice in what happens to his empire. It would be nice to rub that smug grin off his face."_

_"And that's it?"_

_"Well... and thirty percent of everything you earn until my dying day. Seems like a small price to pay when you think how rich you'll be."_

_"And if I don't?"_

_"You will if you are as smart as you claim to be. But I'll let you think about it, I don't want to be accused of forcing your hand."_

_The man finished his beer in silence and stood to leave. Eduardo blew out a frustrated breath and stood quickly from the booth, grabbing the mans' wrist and keeping him in place. _

_"Sure fire?" Eduardo repeated._

_The man couldn't help but smile in his accomplishment._

_"Sure fire. You have my word."_

..

"I just followed his instructions. He said he'd been watching her a while, but he had lost track of her, thought maybe she'd gone on vacation. He gave me the address to her apartment and I was watching it for weeks before anything happened. The first time she was with a man, and the second time she was with a girlfriend so I couldn't do much."

Eduardo stopped to wipe the blood from his mouth. He stared at his uncle whose disappointment was clear.

Turning to Anton, Eduardo continued. "So I figured she was your mistress, and you didn't want your wife to know. Probably set her up with the apartment and gave her money. I mean, he wouldn't tell me who she was, just that she was your weakness and the key to our success."

Anton took the gun from the table and pressed the barrel against Eduardo's forehead.

"Hector, it is the sign of poor leadership when your staff do not listen to instructions. I cannot hand over my business to someone like you who clearly lacks the authority that this line of business needs. Just so we are clear."

"I have told you everything I know," Eduardo continued.

Anton's icy blue eyes turned sharper, more threatening. "Who?"

"I...I don't know what you mean."

"Who is this man? I think you have made him up to cover your own ass. I'm gonna ask you for the last time, to tell me the truth."

The all too familiar click of the safety catch being released on the gun sounded much louder when pressed against his head and Eduardo answered without hesitation.

"Richie. He said his name was Richie."

"I don't know anyone called Richie..." Anton suddenly paused, as his finger wavered on the trigger and Christopher gasped.

The three friends looked at one another, all thinking the same thing. There was only one Richie they all knew. Anton turned to Christopher, whose expression could only be described as anguished.

"I thought he was doing time in Kingston," Carlos whispered.

"He was. He said he'd been away a long time," Eduardo added, relieved they knew who he was talking about.

"Where is this bar?" was all Anton managed, conscious that Christopher was still there.

"The Leaping Lizard Bar, on St Patrick Street."

Putting the gun back in his pocket, Anton left the room silently, closely followed by Christopher.

"You two just got lucky," Jimmy said to Hector and Eduardo, as he and Carlos walked out of the room too.

They passed Hector's wife who was carrying a tray of food, who looked at them confused.

"You are going?" she asked.

"Yes, we must. Thank-you," Carlos smiled tightly.

* * *

><p>Walking out into the chilled air, Anton took a deep breath pushing away the red haze that was before his eyes. He saw Christopher march towards the parked car and climb inside.<p>

"Shit," he mumbled, trying to pick up speed and catch him. He was struggling to regulate his breathing.

Christopher had already slammed the car door by the time Anton called out his name. He sat in the passenger seat, momentarily lost as he tried to still his shaky hands. Sam fidgeted in the passenger seat, anxious to leave.

"Can you drop me and Sam first, Chris?" Andy said unaware of the internal turmoil he was enduring.

Christopher did not respond, and before Anton was able to reach him and talk to him, he had turned on the engine and driven off.

"I need to stop off somewhere first," Christopher finally said. "It won't take long, it's on the way."

"Okay...sure," Andy shrugged, resting her weary head on Sam's shoulder.

...

They pulled up outside some sort of drinking spot on the other side of the city.

Christopher turned off the engine and stared at the flashing neon logo of a lizard and a cocktail glass.

"Chris?" Sam was suddenly on high alert. He shook Andy awake. "What are we doing here?"

"I'm thirsty."

Something was wrong, they both knew it.

"Hey, maybe we should all go home," Andy said softly. "It's been a tough day."

"Just one drink," Christopher replied, already climbing out of the car.

* * *

><p>"Richie...what the fuck was that bastard's last name?" Jimmy laughed manically. "I'm gonna have fun with him."<p>

"Stewart," Anton replied dryly. He turned to stare at Carlos, "Drive faster."

Carlos, pressed the gas pedal apprehensively watching as Anton clenched and unclenched his jaw. He knew his friend was mad, they all were but Richie and Anton were on a different level.

"Carlos, it's a god damn car!" Anton cursed. "It's designed to go fast. I don't want Chris arriving there without me. You know the things that went on with him and Richie."

"He may have just gone home," Carlos pacified.

"I know Chris, he's gone to that bar." Anton cursed to himself as the traffic lights turned red.

"Stop driving like a fucking geriatric," Jimmy snapped at Carlos.

It was all the encouragement Carlos needed as he pressed the gas pedal hard and the car sped towards to Leaping Lizard Bar.

* * *

><p>They walked into the bar and immediately Andy wrinkled her nose on disgust.<p>

"There's beer at mine," she said, sensing something was amiss.

"Sooner we order, the sooner we'll be out," Sam conceded.

They went and sat at the other end of the bar as Sam ordered three beers. Christopher was focussed on a man sitting at the bar laughing with the bartender. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he would hazard a guess at the busty brunette standing near the juke box.

Just as Sam brought his bottle of beer to his lips, Christopher stood abruptly. There was a strange expression that passed over his face. Andy turned to assess their surroundings only to see her brother brush past her. There was a loud crash followed by agitated yelling.

Both Sam and Andy looked over to the place where a crowd had gathered and two men are fighting. Through the blur of motion and chaos, she saw Christopher punch someone in the jaw.

She closed her eyes, in disbelief. Christopher had never shown such violence before, and it was clear both men knew one another.

The bar door opened and Anton crossed the room, a red haze cloaking his eyes. His lips were set at an even line, but a dash of worry dotted his brow as he surveyed the bar, drawn towards the scuffle to his left. He saw Richie and Christopher squared off against one another, both looking dishevelled and agitated. Of the small crowd that had gathered, no one looked eager to intervene.

"Chris," Anton barked, furious. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stay out of this," he warned, then spat a little blood on the floor without taking his eyes off Richie. "Me and daddy dearest have some unfinished business."

"Chris..."Andy tried, her voice softer and more placating when she realised who the man was. "Please let's just go."

"I don't think I can do that, " Chris shook his head.

"I was right when I said you weren't mine," Richie said spitefully as he lent against the bar. "You hit like a girl."

Christopher's fists were balled up tightly at his side. Andy touched his hand gently, breaking him out of his trance.

"All three of you go home, no detours. Go home, you were never here," Anton ordered.

"What a shame," Richie mocked. "I thought we were all going to catch up."

"Oh we'll be catching up," Jimmy intervened and pushed his knife into Richie's shoulder joint, twisting it roughly.

Richie screamed loudly, and just as easily as the crowd formed it dispersed, no one wanted to get involved. Even the bartender began polishing glasses.

Dragging him to his feet Jimmy and Carlos pulled Richie across the bar and out into the parking lot.

"Go home," Anton said one last time before following his friends.

...

They all sat in the car, watching Sam, Andy and Christopher drive away in the rear view mirror. They could hear the muffled cry of Richie from the trunk of the car, which they ignored.

"We need to take him somewhere," Jimmy said calmly, wiping the blood off his knife. "Somewhere discreet."

"The warehouse," Carlos suggested. "I know we haven't used it in many years, but..."

"Fine," Anton said. "Let's take this son of a bitch to Kensington Gardens."

Turning up the radio loud, Carlos started the engine and drove in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>The warehouse hadn't changed, and as the doors creaked open all three men were transported back in time to their own personal memories. The wooden table still stood to one side as it always did; the place where they played cards, drank beer, made decisions and divided up their profits. Four chairs were around it.<p>

The moaning from their captive tied tightly at his wrists brought them back to the job at hand. Richie had passed out from the pain but was starting to regain consciousness. Carlos shoved him roughly onto one of the chairs.

Anton watched Richie's face twist in discomfort and found himself thinking of his partner and best friend. He wondered what he would make of this, of his daughter being hurt by this piece of shit. Then he cursed himself for not making the connection. Of course Maurice wouldn't be there, neither would Andy or Chris. They would be in Vancouver with their father safe and well. Anton was perplexed by this new direction of thought and knew there will be time for contemplation later. For the moment he deflected the questions and maintained the external appearance of control. He slapped Richie across the face with the back of his hand.

"Wakey, Wakey," he mocked. "You've got some explaining to do."

"Screw you!" Richie cursed. "I've got nothing to say."

Anton swayed a little and Carlos recognised the need to intervene. Anton was looking unwell, and he suspected being at the warehouse may be his undoing. He needed to give him time to re-group. In his black trench coat, Carlos stalked over and stared at Richie through narrowed eyes for a split second before delivering a strong punch to the side of his torso. "You will."

Richie grunted and his breathing quickened but otherwise he refused to show any emotion.

Jimmy whistled casually, looking on the shelves for something he half expected not to see after all these years, but surprisingly did. A tool box. He pulled it from the shelf, blowing away the thick layer of dust as several spiders scuttled away to find a new home. He placed it on the table as he began to examine its contents. The items still worked even if they were a little rusty. He placed a few nails and hammer, a pair of pliers and half a bottle of rather congealed engine oil on the table. Pleased with what he salvaged, Jimmy smiled menacingly at Richie.

"You know why I'm called 'Jimmy The Juice' don't you?" Jimmy asked as he placed his knife next to the other items. "Of course you do," he answered his own question himself.

Richie stubbornly did not respond.

"Back in the day, your name was everything. It let people know you'll do whatever is necessary to stay on top."

Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"What did they call him?" Jimmy asked Carlos, pointing at Richie.

"Nothing," Carlos responded.

"Yep, that's right. They called you nothing because you were a nobody. You were a pathetic excuse for a man." Jimmy picked up the pliers, opening and closing its handles to check its feasibility.

"Bella didn't seem to think so, the bitch couldn't get enough of me," Richie goaded.

_Oh he was good, Jimmy admitted. Knew how low to go, but he wasn't that good._

After ten more beats of silence, Jimmy narrowed his eyes, and then nodded his head to Carlos, who slapped Richie hard across the face.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Carlos hissed.

Losing interest in the pliers, Jimmy picked the bottle of engine oil from the table. Holding Richie's jaw still, he poured the gloopy liquid down his throat. Richie gagged, coughing up most of it that didn't leak from his nose. Carlos slapped him again, catching his cheek with the edge of his ring. He looked over at Anton who was staring at Richie.

There was a lot Anton wanted to say to that man, the insults were there ready to roll of his tongue. But instead he asked something he never expected.

"Did you love her? Bella...did you love her?"

"What's love got to do with it? She was nothing special, just a way to piss you and that French Prick off."

"So did you love her? She loved you, gave it all up to be your girl."

"Bella didn't love me. It was always Maurice this, Maurice that and then Andy this, Andy that. And when that snivelling kid came on the scene I'd had enough. Is that honest enough for you?"

"That snivelling kid is a man now you could snap you in two," Anton reminded him.

"Yeah I heard you took him in when Bella had enough. Got a mean right hook on him," Richie admitted.

Richie knew they were going to beat him within an inch of his life after torturing him. It was how old school worked, and he had already resigned himself to that fact as he lay in the trunk of the car. So as he sat there watching things unfold he simply didn't care. He had nobody. No wife, certainly no family. Fifteen years he was in Kingston and in that time he did not have one single visitor. But Hill, he had it all. He had loyal friends, children and a loving wife. He even had the adoration of Bella's kids. He laughed to himself then, because he was already at rock bottom, a beating wouldn't change that. In fact, in some weird and crazy way it made him feel like somebody.

"You should have kept away Richie, but you had to keep pushing. When will you ever learn? I guess I'm the one to teach you a lesson," Anton warned.

Carlos and Jimmy continued to beat Richie relentlessly across the face and torso, until it all became too much.

"Stop," Richie whispered, doubled over in agony, a string of red saliva and engine oil hanging from his mouth. "Stop."

"That's up to you," Anton replied. "Apologise and I'll consider it."

For some reason that angered Richie, having to concede to Anton Hill. His pride wouldn't allow it, and that was all he had left. He sat up defiantly.

"Always the loose cannon Hill. I lucked out not getting you popped too. Even though it was Maurice I wanted, you made me sick too even more than his snivelling kid."

Anton narrowed his eyes.

"That's right, it was me that called the police that night. Had to listen to Bella bragging all the time about how you and Maurice were now in the big league. So I called the cops, told them the time and place, hoping you'd both get busted." Leaning back smugly, Richie continued. "Guess I told you something worthwhile after all."

Anton's fist came down hard on the back of Richie's head first and then the butt of his gun. Richie dropped flat on the ground, face on the cold floor, a loud groan escaping his lips.

The three men circled Richie closing in on him. For once Anton is willing to get his hands dirty, in fact he needed to.

All Anton could feel was rage and a sea of red that washed over him. He couldn't breath.

"It was you?" Anton blinked in disbelief as he allowed himself to really remember what he saw that night all those years ago.

He'd never told anybody about all the blood, the pained expression on Maurice's face as his life slowly slipped away. He remembered a promise he made to his best friend and was unable to fulfil. He remembered a young Chris, broken, battered and scared, who suffered anxiety attacks from what he endured at the hands of that man. He remembered Bella, whose addiction was kept rife, which in turn made him lose a sister and two children lose their mother. But mostly, he remembered Maurice.

He saw this all as he was hitting Richie over and over again. It was only when Carlos stilled him and covered Anton's hand with his own did the sea of red finally disappear. All that remained was Richie's lifeless form.

He was dead.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: I know, I know *hides*. It may appear that I was in hiatus, but life in general has been getting in the way of me trying to write this chapter. I can honestly say that over the last few months there has been very little spare time to write, read any other ff stories and generally have some me time:( **

**But you guys forgive me, right? I've had so many PM's over the last few weeks, that I dug deep and spent the last few days finishing up this chapter. It's a fairly long one, and I hope it makes up for the wait. I will try my hardest to get the next chapter out much, much sooner...Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27: In the Cold Light of Day. <strong>

"It's over," Carlos said calmly releasing Anton's grip on the gun.

He pulled out a spare chair from against the table, and lowered an easily pliable Anton to sit. "Take it easy," he soothed as he squeezed his friend's shoulder firmly. "You've had a nasty shock. We all have."

Carlos threw a quick glance at Jimmy, who confirmed the status quo as for once in his life was stunned into silence at the unexpected news. As if he could feel the scrutiny of his innermost thoughts, Jimmy shook his head quickly, administering a hard kick to Richie's stomach whose glassy pale green eyes remained open yet lifeless.

Anton stared at Richie, and that heavy twisting feeling he had been carrying in his chest for over twenty years had subsided to a bearable dull ache in his heart. He tried to stand and assist with the clean up before realising he no longer had any strength remaining in his legs and he sat back down. Anton leaned forwards, pressing an elbow on either thigh as he tried to come to terms with everything that had happened. He was struggling and this recent revelation was just too much. Feeling cold he pulled his jacket around him tighter and took a shaky breath.

The air felt heavy; he swallowed, and looked at the small pool of blood on the floor. Carlos and Jimmy stared at their friend's defeated body slumped forwards and Jimmy patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"We'll clear up the mess," Jimmy said calmly. His voice faltered slightly. "It's the least we can do."

Taking several deep breaths, Anton nodded and sat silently as Carlos and Jimmy pulled out several large pieces of rope, murmuring instructions to one another as they secured the body for disposal.

Anton looked uneasy, and a little embarrassed that he managed to lose his cool so spectacularly. He acted like the hot-headed thirty something Anton, not the husband and father to four. Anton's eyes drifted between the ring on his little finger and the dead body on the floor several times before they fluttered shut. His lungs felt constricted and he had to remind himself to breathe.

"Hey guys," Anton whispered after a few minutes.

"Just a second," Jimmy groaned as he dragged the body towards the warehouse entrance.

Carlos' gaze flickered briefly at Anton, as he helped to pull Richie's heavy and uncooperative body across the dusty floor. Understanding and concern were etched into his gentle features, he spoke softly.

"Hey Amigo...you okay?" he asked watching Anton's pallor. "Don't take it to heart, the bastard had it coming."

Carlos wiped the sweat from his brow before releasing his hold of the body, allowing it to fall to the ground with a soft thud. Jimmy cursed and coughed as a cloud of dust blew into the air.

"Anton?" Carlos said when there was no answer.

Anton opened his eyes slowly.

_When had he closed them?_

His head was pounding and he found himself struggling to focus on the source of the voice. Anton shook his head trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Anton?" A hand touched his arm.

His friends watched him with concern. He was having trouble breathing; the walls felt as if they were closing in on him.

"Take me back to the hospital," Anton wheezed. "I don't feel so great."

* * *

><p>On the drive back Andy sat as far away as she could from everyone, nearly burying herself into the passenger side door. She had never been so uncomfortable being in a car as she was at that very moment. She felt Christopher watch her closely through his rear view mirror, trying unsuccessfully to communicate with her but she kept her gaze averted.<p>

Images of recent events had flooded her mind, and it made her feel sick. Tainted. And it scared the hell out of her.

"Andy." Christopher interrupted her thoughts. He'd been calling her name for about a minute.

"What," she responded mildly jumping, and avoiding eye contact.

"Chris was asking you a question," Sam spoke calmly.

Christopher's hands gripped the steering wheel as he let out a breath through his nose in frustration.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked with a tight jaw. "I'm assuming you want to go to Sam's?"

"Yeah," was all she replied.

They drove in silence until Christopher took Andy's cell phone from his pocket and stretched his arm backwards to hand it to her.

Andy didn't remember giving him her phone and stared at it blankly for several seconds. Her brows furrowed momentarily, before realising how Sam ended up finding her.

"Thanks," she said softly, as she shoved the phone into her back pocket. She held his gaze in the rear view mirror a little longer before she looked away once more.

Sam reached out for her hand then, but she either did not see or chose not to acknowledge it as she folded her arms and stared out the window at the passing traffic instead. Everything about her posture showed Sam that she was pulling away from Christopher, but more worryingly him. He was having difficulty in reading her, but Andy was on the verge of tears that much he could tell.

...

Christopher drove in a hurt kind of silence; and it took him several more minutes to find the courage to break it.

"Andy, are you angry with me?"

He looked as if he were about to cry too.

They stopped at a red light, and he continued. "You don't know..." Christopher began, but then stopped.

When the light changed to green, he didn't react, and continued to stare at her waiting for some sort of response.

Nothing.

"Um... green light," Sam reminded him.

"Right," Christopher mumbled, and continued to drive.

...

Sam watched Andy closely, looking for some hint about what she was feeling; he could see she was closing off emotionally. It was understandable really, the night was totally surreal from his perspective, so he could only imagine she was feeling overwhelmed at the very least.

At the very worst...he wasn't quite so sure.

There was some sort of cat and mouse chase going on between Andy and her brother, and he did not know Christopher well enough to work out what that was about either. Sam did not know what Christopher's childhood had been like and he had only snippets of Andy's. He knew that she needed to be taken home, to let her be quiet and think. So he simply watched and protected her as best as he could.

Christopher tried to catch Andy's attention, but her back stiffened slightly as she folded her arms tighter and continued to look out the passenger window. She appeared to be in deep thought, and judging by the expression on her face, Sam knew these thoughts were not pleasant.

* * *

><p>"How you feeling?" Carlos asked.<p>

Anton shrugged.

"You look better much better. You scared us back there man."

Anton responded with a soft grunt, typifying his tendency of not wanting to talk about a subject.

"Why isn't Jimmy back yet?" Anton grumbled instead staring at the door.

Jimmy had dropped them off outside the hospital before continuing to 'parts unknown' in order to get rid of Richie. There was no time to discuss the finer points of what and where that was, but if anyone was suited for the job of making a person disappear, Jimmy was the man.

"He'll be back," Carlos smiled confidently. "You on the other hand my friend, need to rest like the doctor said. Priscilla is already going to have words with me for not taking better care of you, and that is not something I am looking forward to."

"Yeah..." Anton chuckled. "I'll apologise now, Cilla's got a temper on her."

"Thanks," Carlos groaned.

Anton gave a soft moan.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Carlos seemed worried.

Anton closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened them once more. "I'm fine, just a little uncomfortable."

He sunk back into his pillow and gave a defeated sigh, still watching his friend.

"You've got to let it go now Anton... all this it ends tonight," Carlos began. "Screw finding a successor for the business, let the suckers fight amongst themselves for a piece of the action."

"It will be carnage my friend," Anton prophesied as he took a slow deep breath. "These young ones don't know what to do with so much power. They have no idea how to use it, how to stay on top."

Carlos merely nodded his head in agreement.

"Not your problem anymore. Remember what you said? You're leaving it all behind just like I did. It's the right time to walk away, and once Jimmy realises that too we can all grow old gracefully or in Jimmy's case disgracefully," Carlos smiled.

Anton groaned and placed a palm on his forehead, "I'm gonna be sixty this year. I remember when I was sixteen. Where did all the time go?"

Carlos laughed. "Fuck if I know. We lived on the edge back then. Fearless and..."

"Stupid," Anton interrupted. "We were definitely stupid."

"I was going to say unstoppable..." Carlos replied.

"Except now maybe only by the arthritis in your knees," Anton joked.

Both men laughed heartily. Carlos leaned forwards slightly so he could look at his friend more closely. For the span of five breaths he watched him breathe before feeling reassured and sitting back in his chair.

"So...you're okay with everything that went down tonight? No more bad dreams?" Carlos asked. "You've got nothing to feel guilty for," he said more quietly.

"Yeah I'm okay," Anton smiled. "I don't feel guilty, I'm feeling better already."

Anton said nothing as they sat in a comfortable and companionable silence waiting for Jimmy to return.

"So this is definitely it?" Carlos questioned one last time.

"Yes Carlos, this is definitely it."

"Good."

Carlos was pleased, and finally dropped the subject.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Andy," Sam called as they pulled up outside their home. "We're here," he said as he shook her awake. Slowly, almost painfully, Andy forced open her eyes and tried to focus on him.<p>

"Sam," she said, with half a smile, realising she'd spent the last twenty minutes of their journey asleep. "What time is it?" she yawned, rubbing at her eyes.

Chris looked at his watch. "A little after 4am." He jumped out of the car, opened the passenger door and held out his hand to her.

"At least we're not working till tonight," she said to Sam, unable to stifle another yawn.

She climbed slowly out of the car and took Christopher's hand for support. Whether it was the exhaustion that caused her to let her guard down or the fact that they had all experienced something that had inexplicably bound them one would never know. Standing on tip-toe she hugged Christopher. His arms hung loosely and prompted by her gesture, wrapped his arms tightly around her in return as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

He spoke softly into her ear. "It's okay Andy. Whatever is bothering you...we can sort it out."

He could see her pain as she closed her eyes before taking a step back from him.

"I'm sorry if I did something to upset you," his voice continued in a hushed yet desperate tone. "Tell me what I did so I can fix it."

Andy simply hugged him again as nothing else seemed appropriate. Christopher pulled her back into a tight embrace and took a shaky breath. To his surprise she gave him another hug, and whispered "thank you."

"Get some sleep," he instructed as he took a step back, trying to gain some control over his already frayed emotions.

"You too," Andy replied wearily as she turned away. Her hand lingered on his arm for just a moment before she made her way slowly towards her home.

As Sam and Christopher shook hands and spoke briefly, Andy made her way up the few steps that led to its front door.

**...**

She struggled with the lock and after the second attempt sighed quietly, hoping Sam had not heard. But this was Sam and he had noticed. Even if he didn't hear her, he saw the defeated slump of her shoulders.

Sam watched as Christopher's car pulled away before stepping into her personal space and placed her bags on the floor beside them.

Immediately his hand was on the nape of her neck, rubbing gently. "You okay, sweetheart?" he murmured in her ear.

"I'm fine," she managed.

Sam eyed her carefully, turning her body to face him. There was a split in her bottom lip that was swollen and the bruise on her jaw had deepened several shades of blue and deep purple. There was some bruising around her neck too.

Sam reached out and gently tilted her chin to get a better look. "You're still beautiful, McNally," he said with all honesty causing her eyes to pool with unshed tears.

He wrapped one arm tight around her shoulder and smiled. "I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but nothing will ever change the way I feel about you and us."

She did not respond but the smallest smile tugged at her lips and it was enough to satisfy him. They stayed like that for several seconds as Sam gently brushed away her silent tears with his thumbs before they had the chance to fall.

"Come on," he said gently taking the key from her hand and opening the door with ease. "We both need sleep. Everything always seems better after sleep."

"What I need right now is several strong drinks," she replied entering the darkened hallway and dropped her bags on the floor.

Sam knew then that she was feeling bad, because Andy was not a big drinker, especially as a coping mechanism.

Sam pulled at his jacket and slipped off his boots. He turned on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen. He poured a small amount of Brandy into two short glasses and went to join her in the living room. Handing Andy one of glasses he sat beside her, but did not drink from his own. Instead he exhaled slowly, releasing the stresses of the day.

Andy stared at the liquid in her glass, watching the way it shimmered as she swirled her glass slowly. Her dad relied on the stuff for years claiming it helped him to forget, and for the first time she understood how he felt. Still she doesn't drink it either, and just stared vacantly ahead.

"It might help to talk," Sam suggested, as he placed his glass on the coffee table.

"No it won't," Andy replied as she downed her drink in one hit and rose abruptly to her feet.

"Andy..." Sam said.

"I need to sleep," she whispered shakily as she made her way upstairs to their bedroom without waiting for a reply.

**...**

In the hushed darkness of their bedroom, Sam lay curled on his side, studying the back of Andy's neck. She had crawled in without saying a word and turned away from him, perched almost at the edge of the bed. As Sam looked at the massive space on the bed between their two bodies he had to remind himself that this wasn't personal. Andy was going through something; some sort of quandary. He had never seen her so distant, even when sleeping. There was always some sort of contact from her, however small. A hand on his chest, her feet tangled within his own ... .

"McNally, are you still awake?"

She hesitated before responding. "No." He could hear the smile in her voice when she realised what she had just said.

That teasing filled him with ease. She was still there.

"Right," he drawled with a playful annoyance. "Well I'll just talk to you while you're sleeping then." He adjusted the pillow until it fit more comfortably under his head as he focused on the light shade above his head.

Andy rolled flat onto her back, stared at the ceiling and blew out a long breath. Sam couldn't push things. He had to wait for her to come to him.

And she did.

"I was so scared tonight," she finally murmured. "I'm a cop. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. My dad even sent me to self defence classes when I was fifteen. I shouldn't have been scared."

"Of course you should have been scared. I was," Sam admitted without facing her.

Andy continued to stare at the ceiling, her chest was tight with emotion and she knew if she thought about anything too hard, all of her feelings would erupt all over the place. She should be better at this by now. All her years of counselling should have made it easy to talk about her feelings and emotions. But the truth was that she was not sure what to say when those feelings were deep from within her core. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

"There was so much violence tonight," Andy said softly. "And Chris attacking..." She shook her head unable to continue.

Sam turned to face her then and narrowed his eyes, trying to see into her mind. He stared at the features and contours of her face. He had stared at it so often and probably knew every line, dip and curve better than his own.

"Chris looked like he wanted to kill that guy..."

Sam couldn't really dispute that fact so remained silent.

"...and then there's me. I fought with that Salvatore's guy, smashed a vase over his head."

"You were defending yourself Andy," Sam reasoned.

Andy shook her head, not willing to listen. "I punched another officer when he called my dad a drunk, gave him a black eye for basically speaking the truth."

"He was out of line."

"Don't you get it? I'm rotten too; the violence is in my blood. I'm the same."

Sam steadily exhaled before answering.

"That's where you're wrong Andy," Sam argued. "Look how great you've turned out. You're loyal, hardworking, loving, kind and beautiful. I'm a lucky man to have you in my life."

"You're biased when it comes to me," she croaked out.

"Maybe so McNally, but you're still the best thing to happen to me in a long time."

Andy tried hard to swallow the lump of tears in her throat. She had no idea how to respond to his words. She turned slowly and looked at him, letting his concerned eyes drill into hers for just a moment calming her.

"You're wonderful Andy. Inside and out. Tonight Chris and your uncle reacted how most people would given the circumstances. Tonight wasn't about them being rotten it was about family and loved ones sticking together, so whatever you are thinking forget it. You are worth something to all of us Andy; we all care for you and want what's best for you. Surely you know that."

Words were not Sam's strong suit, but there were times when he was so on point and succinct with what he said. With a soft sigh, she rested her head on her elbow.

Sam slid his hand to her jaw, welcoming the contact. "And despite it all I'm still here," he reiterated.

Tears immediately bubbled up inside of her, and began to roll silently down her face. A small sob slipped through her lips and there was nothing she could do accept reach out. Closing the large distance between them to a mere few millimetres, Andy held Sam tight as he pulled her half on top of him. She laid her head on his chest and cried as he stroked her back, whispering soft words of reassurance over and over again.

"It's okay. It's okay," he repeated over and over as she buried her face into his neck. It reminded her of when she first shot someone and how his reassurance had comforted her then.

They stayed that way, subdued and intertwined, for almost an hour as he stroked his hand through her hair lulling her to sleep. He kissed her forehead one last time for good measure. Sam felt the weariness pulling at him too, but he continued to keep watch. Eventually Andy's eyelids began to droop, and just as the birds began to sing, they both fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The weather was starting to change. The sun was bright through the clouds and as it shone through a small gap in the curtain, Andy began to stir in her sleep.<p>

_Tap Tap Tap._

She burrowed herself deeper into the bed and just as she floated back into a deeper level of slumber, she jerked awake.

_Tap, Tap, Tap._

She lay there for a few minutes, her eyes felt puffy and sore. The space next to her was empty and although she felt weary she reluctantly sat up and made her way to the bathroom.

She splashed some cold water onto her face before staring at her reflection in the mirror. She almost didn't recognise herself. Her eyes blinked open, slowly examining her bruised face wondering how much makeup was needed to do a decent cover up. She stared at her reflection unhappily, trying not to think about being attacked.

She heard the tapping noise again and the sound of the television playing downstairs which roused her from her thoughts. Trying to forget only made her remember more, so she went in search of coffee instead. Pouring herself a cup she padded to the living room and the source of the tapping noise.

"McNally!" a voice cried cheerily.

She had to blink twice to be sure it really was Oliver sitting on the settee, eating a donut.

"Hi Oliver. What are you doing here?" she asked, a little confused.

"I've actually been here for a few hours sleeping beauty," he teased. "Sammy needed to pop to the hardware store and asked me to babysit until he got back."

Andy frowned but did not comment, and neither did Sam at Oliver's words.

She sat down next to Oliver, pulled her legs under herself and waited for Sam to speak. To explain exactly why Oliver was there. Resting her coffee on the edge of the coffee table she questioned him directly.

"What are you doing Sam?" Trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

The real question she was asking, passed between the two of them, and Sam cleared his throat. "Changing the locks on this door." He did not look at her, focussing on the job at hand. His fingers whitened as he gripped the handle of the screwdriver harder as he changed the barrel of the lock. He continued working silently as he fitted not one, but two extra safety locks on the door.

The TV played softly in the background.

...

Andy took a long swallow of coffee and tried not to notice Oliver's slow gaze over her battered features. They both watched Sam work for a while and although Oliver was happily tucking into his third donut, he kept glancing at Andy every so often. Just as Oliver opened his mouth to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, he was cut off.

"I feel like crap. I'm gonna grab some more coffee and go back to bed. I'll see you later at work, Oliver."

Sam looked at Andy for the first time in at least ten minutes, and he seemed concerned. "You okay?"

She nodded tiredly as she rummaged in her purse on the table for an aspirin. "I have a migraine. I just need to go back to sleep for a bit," she explained.

Unable to find what she was looking for, Andy sighed and relaxed against the settee weariness rapidly overtaking her again. Oliver sensed her exhaustion and after a few minutes more excused himself with a small smile and fatherly kiss on her forehead before leaving. Sam took the vacant space next to her as he opened her purse once more and handed her the small bottle of tablets in its side pocket.

She glanced at the toolbox sat next to the front door and its shiny new locks as she struggled to open the bottle.

"Do you think he's alright?" Andy asked as she managed to snap open the bottle and tipped two tablets into her palm.

"Who?"

She washed it down with coffee before answering.

"Uncle Anton. Do you think he's okay? I've got a bad feeling. I wanna call..."

"No," Sam interrupted firmly. "Andy, you can't call. You have to distance yourself and wait this thing out. We should not have been there."

"I know. But we just left them alone yesterday. They're old men," she protested, her voice laced with concern.

"Don't underestimate them. You did see what I saw last night right?" he asked incredulously. "They didn't need our help. Seemed like they had everything under control," he muttered bitterly.

She chewed her bottom lip in worry continually staring at the shiny new locks as her mind began to work. There was a million and one thoughts in her head right now.

"Oliver to babysit me. Really Sam?" She tutted only mildly annoyed.

She unfolded her legs from under herself and stood to bring her cup to the sink. When she turned around, she was surprised at how close Sam was to her. She hadn't even noticed him get up.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay Andy, and I wasn't sure how long it would take me to change the locks at your apartment," he replied unapologetically. "It was either Oliver or me waking you up to come to the store with me."

"You changed the locks at my apartment too?" she asked startled. Her back pressed up against the counter as she took a step back.

"First thing this morning. Took a while," he admitted stepping closer.

A part of Andy wanted to grumble but knew it made sense even if she felt indignant he hadn't discussed it with her first.

She laid her forehead on his shoulder instead and sighed.

"Sam..." Andy said, and it's throaty and lazy. Her eyelids seemed heavy. "Thank-you for everything, you're a good man."

Sam didn't respond and she opened her eyes and lifted her chin to gaze at him adoringly. His face softened at her smile.

"I'm glad you think so," he replied.

He was inches away from her face. His heavy set eyelids and beautiful lashes made him the most handsome man ever in her eyes, and she smiled wider. Sam smiled back, skimming his free hand gently over her bruises. Andy let out a soft sigh as his fingers made contact with her face. She loved Sam so much that the idea that she would never be with him felt impossible to her now.

"You're worth something too you know, Sam. I didn't know what real love between a couple should feel like before I met you." She blushed slightly at the candid admission causing her cheeks to turn a rosy hue.

"So I am good for something," he quipped, as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around the curve of her jaw.

"Actually you're good for a couple of things," she teased. Her eyes gleamed mischievously.

Gently nudging his nose, she moved her head forward and kissed him deeply.

One of Sam's hands snaked underneath her shirt and around her waist. He secured her against his body and slowly threaded his fingers through her hair. Andy closed her eyes again, and hummed in approval. Sam had shown her time and time again that he would do just about anything for her. And she loved him for it.

She placed her hand along the side of his face, leaning up to give him another kiss. "I love you," she whispered.

As she stepped back, he grabbed her hips and looked into her eyes. "I love you, too," he said, emphasising his words with such intensity she could feel them.

She pulled her top over her head, as they kissed some more. Their unsteady steps found their way across the kitchen and back to the living room.

"We should go upstairs," Andy suggested heatedly and Sam simply nodded, lowering his mouth to neck.

She couldn't remember anything else after that point as they fell against the settee.

They never made it to the bedroom.

* * *

><p>"Boss," Johnny said calmly as he entered the restaurant.<p>

It was 10am on a Sunday morning, and Johnny was still wearing his church suit, having dropped his wife and kids at a local diner for breakfast. He decided not to go home and change, opting to go straight to the restaurant instead. Anton Hill did not like to be kept waiting.

Anton was stood behind the bar leisurely drinking a cup of coffee. His face looked relaxed and showed no visible signs of stress or irritation, but Johnny had come to learn over the years that it was not necessarily a guarantee of anything. Not where his boss was concerned anyway.

"How's things Johnny?" Anton asked.

"Can't complain," Johnny responded cautiously as he undid his jacket button and took a seat on the stool at the bar.

Johnny hadn't screwed up as far as he knew, but he couldn't help but feel slightly anxious at being summoned.

The silence between them was palpable but not necessarily uncomfortable. They were both men of few words and had known each other fifteen years. Enemies? No. Friends? Not really.

"How's the wife?" Anton asked. "Marlene, right?"

Johnny immediately tensed up. Okay, this was freaking him out. Never in fifteen years had Hill mentioned his wife, let alone by name. Never.

"She's doing well boss," he replied steadily.

"Good. Glad to hear."

Becoming more serious, Anton looked at Johnny intently. "Lock the door, and pull down the blinds."

Johnny's rose to his feet and did as instructed. His mind raced frantically over the last few weeks.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! He'd screwed up somehow_.

"So do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" Anton asked loudly as he turned up the thermostat on the wall. Rubbing his hands together to generate some heat, he stared at Johnny once more waiting for a reply and oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"We didn't want to know. Wait...how did you know my wife was..."

"I get it," Anton cut in. "Makes it a nice surprise after nine months of waiting. But it would be nice if it were a girl, I'm sure your four boys are a handful. I know mine were."

Johnny coughed and swallowed at the same time at Anton's words.

Anton looked at Johnny amused. "I sense you expected me not to know that," he suggested with more than a little certainty.

Hill had always been good at that. Reading people. Johnny supposed that was one of the reasons why he was so successful.

"What makes you say that?" Johnny said softly.

"That look on your face." Anton shrugged. "You look like you're trying not to say something to me. Or thinking about it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Johnny replied, sitting down once more.

Anton chuckled. "Johnny who knows nothing, sees nothing or hears nothing. That's why you've lasted so long on my payroll."

"It's not that boss. It's just...you've...well we've never spoken about my family before."

"True," Anton agreed. "But it doesn't mean I didn't know. I make it my business to know everything about my employees."

He poured a fresh coffee, topping it up with a little whiskey. Pushing the small porcelain cup and matching saucer towards Johnny, Anton continued to talk.

"I had to let Randy go...told him to go back to school and get a proper job. He chose not to follow my advice. He's now working for the Flanagan brothers," Anton said distastefully.

Johnny's eyebrows rose at the news. "Is this what this is about boss? You have to let me go too?"

He was almost hopeful that was the case. Better than ending up with a bullet in his head for whatever he had done.

"Not quite," Anton replied dryly. "Not quite."

Anton lit a cigar, as he poured a little more whiskey into his own coffee. Johnny began to drink his own slowly as he waited expectantly.

"It's time for me to retire, Johnny," Anton said calmly.

"Oh." Johnny couldn't think of anything to say in response. Shocked would be an understatement to describe how he felt. He placed his cup back on the counter at a loss for words. "Oh," he said again, unable to mask his surprise.

"How old are you now Johnny?" Anton asked.

"Forty one."

"Still young," he muttered absently.

Johnny scoffed. "I don't feel it."

Anton waved his hand dismissively at his comment as Johnny brought the cup back to his lips.

"You still renting that two bed in Vaughan? Must be a tight squeeze," Anton continued.

The cup didn't quite reach his lips that time as he masked his surprise at the question. He should probably be accustomed to them now, but every question Anton Hill posed, still managed to rattle him.

"We manage. I mean, we probably will move once the new baby arrives."

Anton nodded in understanding.

Relaxing somewhat, Johnny finally drank his coffee.

"Vancouver," Anton said suddenly.

"Sorry?" Johnny was unsure what he heard.

"Vancouver. It's a nice place to raise kids...so I hear."

"Right..."

Johnny was a little perplexed. This had to be the most uncomfortable and random conversation ever, but weirdly normal.

He placed his cup back on the counter and looked closely at his boss. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but thought better of it and closed it again.

"Priscilla and I have had our house almost thirty years; we never did not see a reason to leave. How much would a modest four bed cost now? Nothing fancy. Average sized garden and drive?"

Johnny shrugged.

"Hmm... Four hundred thousand dollars I reckon, maybe a bit more?"

"I guess something like that..." Johnny replied.

"Then there are renovations I suppose if it's an old house, new furniture..." he said out aloud to himself.

Anton opened a jar of biscotti, and ate one thoughtfully as he dusted a few stray crumbs that had fallen on his shirt. He looked at Johnny closely.

He'd been doing that a lot Johnny noted. Watching him. But today felt different, like he was trying to figure something out.

"Of course house prices were much cheaper thirty years ago, but I put everything I had into buying that house and it wasn't easy believe me. All Priscilla and I had was a few hundred dollars, one mattress and a baby on the way when we moved in. Money was tight. I had to sell my car to pay for the heating bills and most of our furniture came from the good will store..."

Anton offered Johnny a biscotti but he declined, enthralled by Anton's tale.

"My mom made us a quilt and some curtains, and my godfather helped me to decorate."

"Things were tough?"

"Yeah, I couldn't really work for a while either. Things were a little hot with the cops and had to lay low. Priscilla had to take up waitressing for a few months just so we could make ends meet..."

Johnny took a biscotti then, just for something to do. It was probably the longest conversation he'd ever had with his boss and he didn't quite know what to make of it. He drank his coffee slowly, enjoying the taste as it slid down his throat wondering how it was possible to feel both uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. He had seen a different side to his boss recently ever since the mysterious young brunette appeared in his life. There was a deepness to him that he suspected only his family were privy too. Maybe Tony was right afterall, maybe the rumours were true, maybe Anton used to be a different person in the past.

"When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up, Johnny?" Anton probed.

The questioned startled Johnny out of his thoughts. "I don't..." he began trying to remember what that was. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He certainly didn't think he would be doing this that was for sure."I... I wanted to fix cars."

Anton nodded thoughtfully at his answer.

"My older brother has a small workshop in Alberta. I always planned to join him one day, expand the business," he explained.

"Is Alberta a good place to raise kids?"

Johnny furrowed his brows in confusion. Their conversation had taken several unrelated directions. "Um, well...my brother and his wife have three lovely girls, so I guess it is."

"Hmm."

Anton seemed distracted as he rummaged through several papers and envelopes strewn on the counter.

"Lots to get organised if I'm going to retire," he said gesturing at the papers.

"I guess so," Johnny replied.

"You know..." he continued as he looked through his papers. "You may have a point. It doesn't matter where you live, I suppose good parenting is all you need," he said, nodding contemplatively.

He pulled a key from inside a large brown envelope and smiled. It was the smiling that unnerved Johnny more than anything.

"Come with me," he said softly, as he placed his cigar on an ashtray.

Johnny slid of his stool and followed Anton towards the back of the restaurant.

...

They walked into an alcove, a place where they put diners looking for a romantic setting. Anton pushed a large potted rubber plant away from the window.

"Give me a hand," Anton said a little breathlessly, dropping stiffly to his knees.

Helping Anton to roll up the heavily patterned rug that the plant sat on, Johnny's eyes widened when he saw was some sort of trap door. Still he did not comment; that philosophy had always kept him in good stead and health.

"I trust you Johnny... maybe more than I should," Anton said as he put the key into the lock. Pausing for a second to look at him, Anton turned serious once again. "Your loyalty to me has not gone unnoticed."

The key opened the lock easily, and Johnny resisted the urge to peer inside as Anton lifted its door. It wasn't as deep as he expected, rather shallow but definitely wide. From where he was knelt, there appeared to be pieces of papers, envelopes, several international passports and a handgun. Anton shoved them to one side and pulled out a medium sized leather suitcase before locking the hatch again. Using the window ledge for support, he pulled himself to his feet never once letting go of the suitcase.

"Fix it back," Anton instructed firmly and made his way back to the bar without turning back.

At that moment the Anton Hill Johnny knew was back in full force. It seemed like the small talk was over. Johnny felt a little disappointed but relieved to have things return to some sort of normalcy.

...

Johnny hovered as he watched his boss pour another coffee choosing to stand on the other side of the bar next to Johnny's empty seat.

"So where were we?" Anton asked having lost his train of thought.

Johnny couldn't answer; he had no idea what the hell was going on.

"You were telling me about the house you brought."

"Yeah, yeah that's right."

Johnny remained standing.

"So it's about four hundred thousand dollars for a house these days. Right?" Anton questioned. "Maybe five hundred thousand," he amended. He stared at Johnny steadily.

Johnny had no idea what was happening, but he had learnt not to interrupt or ask too many questions where his boss was concerned so simply nodded.

Anton drank some more coffee. "I think it may be a girl you're having, Johnny and if I'm right your sons' hand-me-downs won't do at all. So what do you think? Another three thousand for baby stuff? No, no...Let's say five thousand to be on the safe side."

Johnny simply nodded once more.

"Then there's roughly ten thousand for new furniture, and don't get me started on the cost of a newborn!" he exclaimed. "So that makes it five hundred and fifteen thousand dollars," he calculated.

He leaned back against the counter taking a pull on his cigar.

"Open the case," he barked, gesturing to where it was on the floor.

Johnny went on his knees hesitating slightly. He opened the suitcase shocked to see it full to the brim with thickly stacked bundles of one hundred dollar bills. There had to be at least...

...It was as if Anton read his mind.

"There's seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there if you were wondering," he said casually. "It's all yours."

Johnny looked up at Anton wide eyed.

"Boss... I ..."

Anton waved his hand dismissively for the second time that evening. Johnny furrowed his brow and Anton could tell that he still did not understand, and it was important that he understood. Randy was too stupid to understand the bigger picture, but Johnny was different.

Johnny was nervous then, completely out of his comfort zone, and exhilarated beyond belief almost to the point of tears. Things were changing in his life, one way or another and he was rich. Anton Hill had made sure of that. Why?

There was a lump in Johnny's throat, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He hadn't cried since his father's funeral but right now he was so overwhelmed that his senses were overloaded.

"I'm letting you go Johnny..."

"Letting me go where?" His mind was having trouble keeping up.

"Wherever you want. Go to Alberta, buy a house, open your business...blow it all on booze and women if that's what will make you happy. Just live your life," he said gruffly. "Regrets can eat you alive."

Johnny stared at the money and back at his boss.

"Boss... I," he said, and he looked a little staggered. "This is too much, I..."

Anton's expression turned irritated and stopped him mid sentence. They both held one another's gaze, and the silent message Anton transmitted was loud and clear. Johnny finally understood. He never said another word and stared at the cash once more.

"Get the fuck outta of here Johnny," Anton said irritably. "You're fired."

* * *

><p>It was another three weeks before Andy heard from Anton. He called to say he was doing fine and explained that they needed to keep their distance for a while. He never once mentioned Eduardo Salvatores or Richie, so neither did Andy. They spoke about his improving health, and a little about Maurice. He said there were a few things belonging to her late father that she may want to have. Keepsakes, momentos, but he needed to go into the loft to find it. He told her to keep well, and get to know her brother more. He said he would be in touch soon. It was a light-hearted and pleasant conversation and she felt at ease to finally hear his voice.<p>

Anton also said he loved her.

Andy said she loved him too.

...

It was four months later when she received the invitation. It arrived at Sam's house with her name written in perfect calligraphy. Anton Hill was celebrating his 60th birthday with a party. She read the invitation slowly, tracing her fingers over the heavily embossed lettering, imagining the hissy fit her uncle would throw at the cost, citing he could get it at half the price. Priscilla must have organised it as they looked expensive, and her uncle was very frugal. It was to be held the following Saturday at his home. An intimate affair with close friends and family.

The invitation was for her and Sam.

The details began to blur before her eyes and it took Andy a moment to register the fact that she was fighting back tears of relief but most of all happiness. She was still working on her issues over trust and abandonment, but felt overjoyed at being invited.

Although this would test and push the limits of her relationship with Sam, she desperately wanted to go; there was no doubt in her mind of the fact. The one thing she had learnt through all of this was not to punish herself for feeling the way she did.

'Do into others as they do to you,' her gran used to say. Her uncle had never treated her bad ever. She wanted to see him, she hadn't since that night several months ago and she craved the contact.

There had been no communication since his last phone call. She'd heard rumours that he had left the life and really was a law abiding restaurateur. Her lunches with Christopher had confirmed the fact that indeed their uncle was finally on the right side of the law, and apparently living happily with it.

There were a few new kids on the block starting a drug turf war which had thrown Guns and Gangs into a state of panic and confusion especially as Hill's name was no longer amongst them. No one could understand what made Hill stop importing and trading so suddenly, and when Jerry asked her one day in passing for her thoughts on the matter, Andy simply shrugged.

* * *

><p>Andy met Christopher for lunch before the start of her shift. They had been meeting one another once a week and were getting closer. She liked having a brother.<p>

They both slid into the booth at the same time as he signaled to the waitress. They always sat in the window seat facing one another.

"The usual?" asked the waitress, and disappeared again when they nodded.

"How are you doing?" Christopher asked.

He asked the same question every time, and every time her answer was the same.

"I'm all right," she says.

"And Sam?"

"Oh, he's fine too."

He opened his messenger bag and slid a large brown envelope across the table in her direction.

"What's that?" Andy asked.

"Photos. From Uncle Anton. He said he promised to make copies for you a while back. He also said something about some other things which he needs to get from the loft as soon as he gets the chance."

Andy nodded, recollecting their phone conversation. She peeled open the sticky seal allowing the small selection of photos to fall out. Separating the one of her father and uncle together at the beach, she stared at it with a fresh pair of eyes.

"This is my favourite. They look so happy..."

"And young," Chris teased. "I can't believe how slim uncle Anton is."

They both laughed.

"I must have looked at that photo a million times over the years and I only noticed something a few months back," he said.

"Like what?" Andy queried staring at the photo carefully.

"Ha! Some detective you are!" Christopher teased.

"I'm a cop, not a detective," Andy pouted although there was still a twinkle in her eye. "Besides, I've only seen this once before."

"Look at dad's hand," he pointed with a nod of his head.

Andy looked more closely at the picture and she saw it. The ring. The ring that Anton always wore on his small finger was on her dad's third digit of his right hand. And it all made sense. Maurice's fingers were long and slim; Anton's were short and broad.

"Probably the only finger he could get the ring on," Andy said softly.

When the waitress arrived with their order, Andy put the photos back in the envelope and dropped it in her bag.

"Tell him thanks," she said smiling.

Chris nodded, as he began to eat his burger and fries.

Andy stretched her legs to the other side of the booth and took a sip of her orange juice before taking a bite of her sandwich. They both ate in a comfortable silence watching the world pass by through the window.

"You are coming to Uncle Anton's birthday?" Christopher asked between mouthfuls.

"Sure. Already made sure I'm not working," she smiled.

"And Sam?"

"Somehow I don't think he'll be there."

"Probably for the best."

"You think?" she said sarcastically.

They both chuckled.

"It's gonna be great. The whole family under one roof. We've all turned a corner the last few months." He took another bite of his burger, hesitating for a few seconds. "Uncle Anton is seeing a therapist."

"Really?"

"She's Dutch."

"Wow. I never thought he would go for something like that."

"Pretty amazing right? She's helping him work through his anger issues and grief."

They were both silent for a while.

"He never got over dad dying," Christopher continued.

"I know," Andy said softly, remembering the conversation they had several months before at the restaurant the first time they met.

"Anyway...I'm really looking forward to it. Aunty Priscilla has spent hours preparing for it."

"I'm looking forward to it too. Wild horses wouldn't stop me from being there."

Christopher smiled at her warmly, and Andy smiled back.

* * *

><p>Donovan Boyd.<p>

It was a Tuesday evening when Boyd swaggered through the doors of fifteen division. No one had seen him in months. He appeared to be his usual cocky self although there was a large scar above his eyebrow and he wore a brace on his left wrist. His eyes flickered around nervously behind sunglasses he wore. When he made his way into the squad room there was a slight buzz in the air and several people paused for the briefest of moments to stare at him as he talked to Frank.

"Hey!" Boyd shouted at a uniform officer as he walked past.

"Are you talking to me?" the officer asked.

"Well I'm not talking to myself!" Boyd said rudely. "God, Frank they get dumber each year."

Frank frowned.

"Photocopy this file. Now!" Boyd snapped shoving a folder into the officer's chest. "Twenty copies and make it quick."

"Officer Davis..." Frank said calmly. "Could you please photocopy this for Detective Boyd? He appreciates your assistance."

Boyd grunted, his eyes continually moving around the room.

"Whatever...just bring it to Detective Callaghan's office," he said and sauntered off.

While Officer Davis stood waiting for the copies to print he read the paperwork with interest.

...

"Barber, Callaghan," Boyd said loudly as he sauntered into their office without knocking.

Jerry and Luke looked up from their conjoined desk at Boyd.

"We just got a new case," Boyd continued rolling out the white board that was placed in the corner.

Callaghan stood up and walked over to the board, sitting on top of the corner of an empty desk. Jerry remained seated.

Boyd had proceeded to open one of his files and was placing photos on to the board.

"Richard Stewart, 62 years old. Just got out from doing a long stretch in Kingston six months ago."

"What for?" Luke asked.

"Drug and fire arm possession."

He continued to place several more photos of a bloated looking corpse that was showing signs of decomposition. Jerry put down the sandwich he was eating.

"Last seen around 4-5 months ago. That was the last time he paid rent or withdrew any money from his bank account. His body washed up at the beaches two days ago. His hands and feet were tied," he continued pointing at several photographs.

"The cold weather managed to preserve him for a while. From what preliminary reports show, he died from a direct blow to the back of his skull. Looks like he suffered a severe beating before he died too."

He stepped back to review the board, snatching the photocopies from Officer Davis as he entered the room handing a copy to each detective. Clicking his fingers, Officer Davis refrained from rolling his eyes as he turned around to face Boyd.

"Was that all sir?" he said between gritted teeth.

"No," Boyd added not bothering to look up from his notes. "Bring me a coffee. Make sure it's decaf. No sugar."

Jerry stood and joined Luke, "What does that have to do with us? Give it to nine division, the beaches is their patch."

Boyd closed the door, and spoke almost nervously.

"The victim was last seen being dragged out from a bar by three assailants. One was identified as Anton Hill."

He automatically touched the scar above his eyebrow as he spoke.

"Hill? That doesn't fit his usual style," Jerry added.

"I've got to agree with Jerry," Luke conceded.

"Well it looks like things have changed. There was some sort of showdown going on and that bar is too much of a dump to have CCTV. I have a witness who is willing to testify to the fact that Anton Hill was there when our victim was taken away. He can also testify to seeing the victim being stabbed with a knife and being manhandled by Hill into the boot of a car."

"Who's this witness?" Luke asked curiously.

"No offence Callaghan, but this is strictly on a need to know basis. I cannot afford to screw this up."

He touched his scar again.

"The witness is already at a safe house. No one is getting to him before we go to trial."

Jerry looked over at his obviously annoyed colleague, "Well there's a catch, there were three. Anyone could have killed the victim, not necessarily Hill."

"True. But either way, we'll get him as an accessory to murder at the minimum. The evidence is stacking against him and it hasn't all been compiled yet. I believe we have enough to put him away this time. Maybe not for the good stuff, but still," he shrugged.

He snatched the cup of coffee from Officer Davis without a thank-you.

"There's a lot we need to go over, and we don't have a whole lot of time," said Boyd, motioning for the two to sit down as he handed some more photocopied notes. "My informant tells me Hill is having a party this Saturday evening at his home, so we have four days. We'll get a warrant to search his property, and arrest him and anybody else who is there for questioning. If we get lucky the other two assailants may be there."

He paced up and down as he drank from his cup.

"Gentleman, this is privileged information. It stays between us and a few detectives from Guns and Gangs. I've already told Frank we may need some extra officers but I haven't told him why. I'll finalise that nearer the time."

Boyd took a deep breath.

"This is it guys, you are going to be a part of history. We are taking down that son of a bitch Anton Hill once and for all, and when we do he won't know what hit him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Damn Boyd!<strong>


End file.
